Ice Flow

Forever Bound

Sat, 05 Dec 2009 18:36:19 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Forever Bound
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG
Length: Oneshot (normal)
Comment: AU (empty gaze). Set after Empty Gaze.
Summary: Doumeki finds that the road to recovery is long.

AN: It's taken a while to write this. But ultimately it’s the way it should be so it was worth the time :)

Forever Bound

A sudden tremor ran through the fingers holding the chopsticks. The sticky chunk of white rice, already precariously grasped, fell back into the bowl and fell apart.

Doumeki watched as pale fingers laboriously reset their hold on the lacquered sticks. It took almost half a minute and even after that there were several abortive tries before any food managed to reach Watanuki's mouth.

A mouth that was often flattened into a thin line with the strain of concentration required for simple tasks. Almost everything was difficult now.

Doumeki silently ate his own dinner, pretending not to see. He certainly didn't offer to help the other youth. Watanuki hated it whenever Doumeki tried to do something for him. Now that he was able once more, he was determined to do things for himself.

Even when it took several attempts.

The woman in the park hadn't been lying when she said that Watanuki wouldn't be the same. Scarred. Exactly what she had meant had become more obvious as the days passed after Watanuki had begun to see the world around him. To see him.

Watanuki couldn't function normally anymore. Everything that had been effortless before had become a hardship. Eating, talking, cooking - everything that required concentration was a hesitant jerky performance. It was as if, having concentrated on what had drawn him away the last year, Watanuki had no concentration left for himself. He had to relearn everything, something that tried Watanuki's patience to the limit and often drove him to helpless frustration.

Rice fell back to the plate once more as an involuntary twitch upset the chopsticks clutched in Watanuki's hand. For a moment Watanuki simply stared down at his plate but then the chopsticks were set down. Clattering awkwardly, one falling off the table as Watanuki's hand twitched at the last moment. It took several tries to pick it up and by the time Watanuki had set it back on the table, his frustration had reached the boiling point.

With a frustrated look at his plate, Watanuki reached out to grasp his glass. The water ended up splashing down the front of him and half across the table.

Doumeki immediately pushed his chair back and threw the tea towel he kept at hand onto the mess, starting to mop it up.

Watanuki clumsily pulled it from his grasp. "I'll do it!" He awkwardly attempted to clean up the mess. "I'm not an invalid!"

Doumeki let him do it, pain squeezing his heart. It was painful to see Watanuki trying so hard yet making things more difficult for himself. Part of Watanuki's problem was that he kept pushing himself, not content with allowing himself to slowly heal.

It led to situations like the time when Watanuki had tried to cook breakfast for himself. Doumeki had found him in the kitchen, cleaning up broken eggs from the bench and floor, frustrated to the point of tears. Doumeki had silently helped him clean up, trying not to notice the involuntarily movements which made Watanuki's part of the task ten times as arduous.

But Doumeki knew that things would slowly get better. The woman in the park had said as much when she stated her terms.

"He will get better but it will take some time." Her burgundy eyes had been watching Watanuki, their restless tracing of unseen events. Her eyes flicked back to Doumeki. "You will have to stay with him for him to improve. You can’t leave his side for more than a day. That is your price."

Doumeki had thought that no hardship, he had always planned to do that anyway.

The woman spoke again as if hearing his thoughts. "And if Watanuki asks you what you paid to bring him back, you must tell him the truth." Her eyes were sombre as if she knew the weight of that.

Doumeki had immediately grasped the implications of that two-edged sword. Once Watanuki knew, the knowledge would become a canker. A seed of doubt that would sprout and quickly grow thorns. Doumeki knew that Watanuki would soon come to see his actions as stemming from pity. Of obligation not love.

It had always been love. A love that had kept him hoping that Watanuki would recover, would see him once more. A love that nearly tore him apart as Watanuki drifted further and further away, taking hope with him.

Love was the reason that kept Doumeki by Watanuki's side. Even without the price which he had to pay, love would have kept him at Watanuki's side for the rest of their lives.

"And don't-" Watanuki suddenly stopped talking, a frightened, lost look sliding into his eyes as he suddenly realized he had lost the words he was going to say. His expression only grew more frantic as he searched them out, dark blue eyes growing distressed as they eluded him.

Doumeki couldn't stand it. He stepped forward and embraced Watanuki's trembling body, pulling him tight against him, hands pressing firmly against Watanuki's back to hold him close. "Watanuki." And that was it. There was nothing more to say that he hadn't already. He was there. He would always be there. "I love you."

Watanuki was suddenly holding Doumeki in a desperate hug. "Idiot." But the fierce hold said more than any words that Watanuki didn't mean it.

They held onto each other next to the table with its spill of rice and wet tablecloth dripping water to the floor. They were together and for now that was enough.

~x~X~x~

So there you go. I hope you have answers to all the questions you were curious about :)

Except for one last small piece or two, this AU is closed. It should be up soon.

~x~X~x~

Scattered Rice

Sat, 05 Dec 2009 18:24:40 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Scattered Rice
Pairing: Watanuki/Doumeki
Rating: PG
Length: Oneshot
Comment: AU (Empty Gaze). Set before Empty Gaze.
Summary: Doumeki realizes that there’s something very wrong with Watanuki.

AN: A birthday request from aimichan (a good thing because these might not have been posted otherwise). You were interested in what happened to mentalpatient! Watanuki, both in the past and what would happen in the future. Here you go.

Scattered Rice

The bento was set down onto the park bench with a sharp clack. The covering cloth was untied and the interlocking trays separated to be placed onto the wooden slats.

Another hand reached in to snag a piece from the top layer, barely dodging the angry hand that moved to swat it away.

"I don't care if you're as rich as the Emperor! It doesn't mean that you can simply do what you want!" Watanuki glared at the owner of the thieving hand.

Doumeki continued to munch on the segment he had pilfered, letting the words run over him like water would off a duck's back. It was always like this with Watanuki. The pale teen didn't care that Doumeki had inherited a vast sum from his corporate grandfather. That Doumeki had enough money coming in each year to buy Watanuki's small apartment several times over. If Doumeki was doing something that he didn't like, then Watanuki was going to let him know about it.

It was one of the reasons why Doumeki loved him.

"Here." One of the trays was shoved in his direction.

Doumeki took it with a small smile at the angry eyes that glared at him.

Watanuki's glare intensified.

Doumeki's smile only widened. "Thank you. It looks delicious."

Watanuki blushed a sudden fiery red and muttered something, turning away to eat his own portion.

Doumeki had to stop himself from laughing. Ever since Watanuki had admitted that 'didn't entirely hate’ him and found him 'sort of attractive' Doumeki had found he could get some interesting reactions out of the other teen. Especially if he suddenly complimented the other boy. Seeing the red tide flood his pale features was even more entertaining that watching his wild flailing or enraged outbursts.

He glanced over again to see if the blush had subsided yet. But what he saw made his smile falter.

Watanuki's hand had fallen to his lap, the chopsticks held loosely in his grip threatening to fall. A scatter of rice around his shoes revealed that he had been in the midst of eating when he had suddenly stopped.

But most frightening of all was the look on his face. It was blank. And his eyes. It was as if he was seeing something horrible beyond words.

It was such a powerful emotion that Doumeki turned to see what he was seeing. But there was nothing there.

He turned back to see that the other boy was still staring, his eyes moving as if he could see some event being played out in the abandoned playground. "Watanuki?"

Watanuki blinked. He came back to himself with a start and a faint hint of red rose in his cheeks as he realized that he'd just dropped a load of rice over his legs. Watanuki began to brush it off with quick, angrily defensive movements. He avoided Doumeki's gaze as if he thought that the other boy would make fun of his lapse.

But Doumeki felt no humour at the situation. A cold sensation uncurling within him was making him take the situation more seriously than he would have otherwise.

This didn't feel like some simple lapse in concentration.

~x~X~x~

Watanuki began to have more lapses. Dropping his groceries after shopping, scattering packages all over the ground. Dropping the dishes he was about to serve onto the floor in a multicoloured mess cut with shards of plate. Breaking off sentences to stare at something that wasn't there.

With each incident Doumeki could see the fear growing Watanuki's eyes. His mind and body were failing and he didn't know why. He tried to hide it but Doumeki could see it. It showed in his shaking hands and the tremor that sometimes marred his voice.

Doumeki felt his own fear. A rising tide that would engulf him if he let it. This was not something he could fight. Doumeki couldn’t protect Watanuki from himself. And the very fact that he was helpless only made him more afraid. He needed help.

Help that Watanuki, desperately trying to deny that anything was wrong, would refuse.

The breaking point occurred one day was they were walking to Watanuki's apartment. Doumeki was keeping an eye on him as he always did when Watanuki suddenly stopped in the middle of the road.

Doumeki thought he had only paused at first. But then he realized that Watanuki wasn’t moving. Wasn’t seeing.

He grabbed one of Watanuki’s arms and forcibly dragged him off the road jus as the lights changed. His grip tightened as the cars passed over the spot where Watanuki had just been standing.

Doumeki’s free hand clenched as delayed fear flooded through him. He could only protect Watanuki when he was there - but what about when he wasn't? Watanuki might have another lapse crossing the street and get hit by a car. He could drown in the bath or fall down a flight of stairs.

He couldn't stand the thought of Watanuki getting hurt because he hadn't been there.

Standing on the sidewalk, Doumeki watched as awareness returned to Watanuki's eyes. It was soon followed by the now-familiar slid of fear as Watanuki realized that the last thing he remembered was walking out onto the road.

"You're not waiting anymore." Doumeki had raised the issue of going to see someone but Watanuki, in his usual fiery defensiveness had refused, angry at the suggestion that he was loosing his mind.

Now he simply looked back at the road, the cars passing over the spot where he had stopped, a look of fearful realization crossing his face. He couldn't deny that something was wrong any longer.

Doumeki took the bags from Watanuki's loose grasp and started towing him towards his apartment. They'd delay for him to get changed but no more.

~x~X~x~

Doumeki waited anxiously in the lounge room. He would have gone with Watanuki into the bedroom but Watanuki had gone red and yelled something about privacy and told him to stay where he was.

Once Doumeki would have been amused by the display but now he found himself anxious and full of dread.

There was a muffled thud.

When Doumeki ran into the bedroom he found Watanuki on the floor.

~x~X~x~

Doumeki took Watanuki to a private institution. It was one his grandfather had supported, a funding that seemed to have no connection to his business life but one Doumeki blessed his grandfather for now. He had intended to bring Watanuki earlier. But not as he was now.

He had walked Watanuki into the building, leading him with a hand tightly gripped in his own. Watanuki followed docilely, with that terrifyingly vacant obedience that he displayed ever since he had opened his eyes.

Doumeki's hand tightened on the limp one he held in his own. Just the thought of Watanuki like this was enough send his heart racing in fearful anxiety. It was as if Watanuki was no longer there, only the hand he held evidence to the contrary.

They now sat in the office of the head physician, the chairman of the institute. Doumeki hadn't let go of Watanuki's hand once through all the examinations that had been carried out and he didn't now. Watanuki knew he was there. Every so often the hand in his would flex and Watanuki was in those eyes again.

It didn't last long, though.

Not long enough for the physician to see it, too. He had obligingly looked into Watanuki's eyes the first time but after that he had only repeated the gesture with the air of someone humouring false hopes.

It made Doumeki angry. If chairman of the institute couldn't see it, he didn't have much hope for the correct treatment.

The doctor regarded him gravely over his large desk. It was made of solid wood, highly polished, with a small bronze of a leaping deer. Various diplomas hung on the walls, a testament to a life dedicated to studying the various illness of the mind.

Watanuki saw none of it. He was staring fixedly at the small statuette.

Doumeki stared back at the man across the desk, willing him to simply say it.

He must have seen it in his eyes. The doctor didn't delay any longer. "Mr Watanuki is suffering from catatonic schizophrenia."

“What about the way he kept dropping things?” His hand tightened around Watanuki’s as he recalled the smashed plates on the floor.

Dr Fujita clasped his hands on the desk. “It’s not common for loss of motor control to indicate an onset of the disorder, thought recent research has suggested a link.” He looked at Watanuki briefly, a short assessing stare. “But it might not have been the schizophrenia that caused it. It’s not uncommon for the stress and confusion of an impending episode to manifest in clumsy behaviour.”

Clumsy behaviour. It hadn’t been like that. Watanuki was a spaz at the best of times but he wasn’t clumsy. Dropping groceries, dropping plates of food, wasn’t something Watanuki would do if he could prevent it.

“Schizophrenia is incurable but it can be treated.” Dr Fujita was continuing. “Some patients can be rehabilitated to lead almost normal lives.” A note of caution entered his voice. “But schizophrenia is is still a mystery in some ways. Not everyone has the same response to treatment.”

They didn't know what it was either. Doumeki had been reading up on the various possibilities when Watanuki had been denying that anything was happening. Almost any mental illness could be shoved under the label of schizophrenia. And catatonic was close enough - if you couldn't see that Watanuki was there from time to time.

Doumeki glanced at Watanuki sitting in the chair next to him. So still. So quiet. But his eyes were moving ever so faintly. Eyeing something that wasn't there as it crawled across the floor.

A hallucination? It certainly fitted the diagnosis but Doumeki wasn’t entirely convinced. It didn’t feel right.

But nothing in this felt right.

"We'll start treatment right away." Dr Fujita was regarding him earnestly, his clasped hands resting on the desk as he leaned forward.

Doumeki knew what that meant. Pills. A concoction of chemicals that may or may not help him. Full of side effects that could make life a living hell.

But Watanuki wasn't living at the moment. Doumeki wanted Watanuki back and Dr Fujita offered a slight hope that it might happen.

"-check him in. The facilities here-"

"No restraints." He couldn't bear the thought of Watanuki being strapped down while he was helpless and unable to defend himself. He wouldn't know what was happening to him. Just the thought of it filled him with rage, an urge to strike out against anyone who would even think it. Doumeki knew that thousands of mental patients died every year in restraints. And he wasn't going to let Watanuki become one of the statistics.

Dr Fujita smiled reassuringly. "Doumeki-san. Our institution doesn't believe in using such techniques except as a last resort-"

Doumeki pinned him a stare that stopped the smooth words at once. "No restraints." He wasn't willing to chance other people's 'last resorts'. "If I find restraints have been used, I'll cut my funding."

Dr Fujita could tell he was serious. "Of course." He looked slightly nervous. "We will provide Mr Watanuki with the best treatment available-"

Doumeki looked at Watanuki again. The enormity of what he was doing suddenly hit him. Unbearable heartache and grief sliced through him in a painful mix threatened to break free. To smother him with the constant fear that had lived in him since the fall of those first grains of rice.

He didn't want to leave Watanuki here but it was possibly the only way to help him.

Doumeki hadn't prayed for a long time. But he prayed now that he was making the right decision.

He tightened his grip but Watanuki's hand remained limp in his.

~x~X~x~

On to Empty Gaze

~x~X~x~

Reading Fate

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 17:15:49 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Reading Fate
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG
Length: Oneshot
Comment: AU (Lines & Leaves).
Summary: Doumeki finds himself paying to find his future XD

AN: Extremely belated birthday fic for azamiko >.> I'm sorry it's take so long D: You asked for a fic where Yuuko and Watanuki settle down near Doumeki's shrine after being travelling fortune-tellers in a carnival. They haven't quite settled down ^^;; but I managed to get the rest of right. Though it's not really after hours like we discussed...*shifty eyes* but it's more fun like this, right? XD

Reading Fate

Strings of red lanterns hung from lines overhead, beads of warm light. A crowd of people filled the long avenue lines with stalls and amusements. A group of children ran past laughing, kushi dango grasped in their hands. Doumeki took a step back, one hand tucked idly into the front of his kimono. When they had vanished back to the crowd, he started walking again. He was looking for something better than sweets.

The scent of takoyaki and yakitori suddenly filled the air. Doumeki inhaled the scent, eyes scanning his surroundings for the vendor. It wasn't hard to find - there was a line of people with the same idea he had.

Doumeki didn't really care for the rides designed to make you lose your lunch or the games of skill that were tilted in the vendors' favour, but it was worth coming to the carnival for the food alone.

"You took your time." The irritated voice had Doumeki turning.

He blinked as he saw the strange sight met his gaze. A young man stood behind him. But while it was unusual for someone to be able to come up behind him unnoticed, that wasn't what surprised Doumeki. It was what he was wearing: a rich sleeveless satin jacket decorated with small beads was draped over a pale long-sleeved shirt and matching trousers that stopped short of his bare ankles to reveal the sandals he wore. It looked like he had stepped right out of some Arabian Nights’ set.

It wasn't usual even for the strange and bizarre that attended the carnival. Doumeki found his thoughts turning down strange paths. The teen standing in front of him was strangely fascinating.

Doumeki suddenly realized that there was no one else in hearing distance. And with the way the youth's narrowed eyes were focused on him, those words had to have been for him. But Doumeki had never seen him before in his life. He would have remembered him if he had.

Doumeki considered the situation for a moment. "Are you waiting for me?" It could have been a mistake. He could have heard wrong. Or the teen might have a habit of saying weird things out loud.

The youth sent him a disgruntled look. "Come on." He turned and started walking, taking for granted that Doumeki would follow.

After a glance at the food vendor and then the teen, who was already disappearing between two tents, Doumeki did. He was interested now. And the iridescent fabric of the jacket the boy was wearing, seemed to flash enticingly under the dim lanterns strung from the branches overhead.

He could always go back and get some yakitori.

The teen led him through a tangle of pitched tents. They must have been arranged with some order - his guide lead him without pause, except to look back impatiently at short intervals - but Doumeki couldn't see it.

The noise of the crowd lessened, fading away then growing strangely louder at points. From the glimpses Doumeki caught between tents, across narrow paths of grass crisscrossed with tent lines, they were passing behind the main thoroughfare and into the tents that belonged to the festival performers. They could have taken another path but it was almost like his guide was taking care so they weren't seen.

Doumeki studied the teen in front of him. His jacket reflected light in an iridescent shimmer as he ducked beneath a tent line in smooth, lithe movement. That made it even more interesting. Doumeki wondered if they were going to his tent.

That made the thought of yakitori slip from his mind entirely.

His guide finally stopped in front of a large tent that stood slightly apart from the others. A lone tent pole had been thrust into the ground, converted into a lamp post. Its end was capped with iron, a long curling arm supporting the paper lamp that hung from it. The purple butterfly painted on it seemed flutter against the pale glowing background as the lamp swung faintly on a breeze.

There was a small elegant sign planted beneath the lamp. One session. ¥2000.

Doumeki glanced at his guide, not sure what he was meant to do.

"Are you just going to stand there?" the boy huffed. He glared at Doumeki and reached out, grabbing his nearest arm and pulling him bodily into the tent.

After a moment of surprise, Doumeki's feet started moving. Willingly. The hand on his arm was hard but Doumeki found that he liked it.

But the contact didn't last long. As soon as Doumeki was inside, the grip on his arm let go. And the tent flap fell down behind them, cutting out the light of the lantern outside.

"Here he is." His guide was walking away, leaving Doumeki in the doorway.

After the bright light outside it took a moment for Doumeki's eyes to adjust to the faint lighting in the tent. The bright glint in front of him was the large crystal ball on the low table. Behind it sat a woman in a chair that looked like a clamshell, the outward curling crest serving as arms. She wore a sari, the dark burgundy contrasting sharply with the pale skin of her midriff and arms. Thousands of tiny sequins and crystals shimmered in the light, a fringe of them falling across her forehead.

The teen's clothes made more sense now. It was only a costume. The exotic made common. Doumeki felt a bit cheated at the thought.

The woman stared at him with dark eyes. They glinted like spilled blood in the light as she suddenly leaned forward. Red.

"I know why you followed Watanuki." Those red eyes slid sidelong at the young man standing at her side.

Watanuki. Doumeki followed her gaze. His guide met his gaze with a glare but didn't say anything.

There was a faint chime of bells as the woman shifted, bringing Doumeki's eyes back to her. Her bright red lips stretched into a sly smile. "I know why you haven't bought any yakitori yet."

Doumeki studied her for a moment. Maybe it wasn't just a costume.

Her smile widened. "Watanuki." Her eyes didn't leave Doumeki's. "Get our guest a chair."

To Doumeki's surprise, Watanuki didn't protest. He walked to the side of the tent and retrieved a small stool capped with an embroidered cushion. It was set with the precision of long practise in front of the low table. Doumeki stared at Watanuki thoughtfully for a moment then sat down.

Watanuki scowled at him. But after a glance at the woman, he picked up the crystal and its ornate base, removing them from the table.

Doumeki watched him put it away with some bemusement then turned back to the woman seated across the table. "Don't you need that?"

The woman had leaned back in her chair and was helping herself to the pipe resting on a small table at her side. "I don't tell fortunes." She smiled. "I read fates."

"And Watanuki?" Doumeki was aware of the youth in the periphery of his vision. He had frozen at the sound of his name.

A wisp of smoke escaped from the end of her pipe. "Watanuki is my apprentice."

"Servant, is more like it." Watanuki muttered from the side.

The woman’s eyes flicked towards him but made no other sign that she had heard. The pipe was suddenly set aside and she straightened in her chair, regarding Doumeki almost solemnly. "Hold out your hands."

Doumeki gave a mental shrug and did as she asked, holding them out over the table.

She didn't take them as he expected. Instead her hands cupped his, close enough that he could almost feel her cool fingers. For a long moment she peered down at his palms. But then she smiled and slowly drew her hands away. "Watanuki."

"What?" The fate reader’s assistant looked suspicious.

The fortune teller's smile widened, a slow stretch of bright lips. "I think you should take this reading." Her eyes slid back to Doumeki. "I doubt Doumeki-kun will mind."

He didn't. But Doumeki kept his face expressionless as Watanuki stared hard at him.

Scowling, Watanuki walked back to the table and took the chair Yuuko vacated. He stared at Doumeki suspiciously for a moment then reached out and took Doumeki's hands.

They weren't cold like he had expected. They were warm and dry, the fingers cupping his hands surprisingly careful, almost gentle. It felt even better when Watanuki started tracing Doumeki's palms with his thumbs.

"You're right handed?" Watanuki asked.

Doumeki nodded.

Watanuki frowned. For a long moment he simply sat there, studying Doumeki's hands as they lay in his.

Doumeki didn't mind. As far as he was concerned, Watanuki could take as long as he liked.

"While people may think you are ruled by your head," Watanuki started slowly, "in truth you act on the wishes of your heart." He sounded surprised at what he was saying. "All of your efforts are channelled to this purpose."

Something like a chill ran up Doumeki’s arms. They should have been just words but he could feel every one of them.

Watanuki's thumb slowly traced over his palm, right to left. "You will meet someone who you love for the rest of your life." He frowned. "But you will never marry." What he saw seemed to disquiet him for he was quiet for a while, frowning down at Doumeki's palm.

Watanuki suddenly shifted his hold, one of his fingers tracing over the line running from his middle finger to the base of his palm.

Doumeki had a hard time keeping still under the slow deliberate stroke.

Watanuki's finger stopped. "But all of this depends on the choices you make.” His voice changed, becoming brisk. “Ultimately you decide your fate." He suddenly let go of Doumeki's hands, withdrawing his own across the table.

Doumeki stared down at his hands, suddenly cold now they weren't being held by Watanuki. He slowly closed them, drawing them back onto his lap.

Yuuko laid a hand on Watanuki's shoulder. "Not bad. But you still need practice, Watanuki." She reached into the neck of her choli and pulled out a piece of paper. "You'll have to come back and see us for another reading, Doumeki-san."

Watanuki looked embarrassed and scowled as Doumeki accepted the folded paper. "We're not going to be here long enough for that."

But she only smiled, laying a hand on his thin shoulder. "You're welcome any time, Doumeki-san." Her smile widened. "I'm sure Watanuki will be happy to help you discover your fate."

Watanuki shot her a sharp look but got up from the chair. He glanced at Doumeki. “I’ll show you out.” He walked around the table to tent entrance.

Doumeki rose from the stool and gave the fate-reader a small bow. “Thank you for your time.” It had been interesting.

“Her time?” It was a disgusted mutter.

Yuuko shot Watanuki a look. “Thank you for assisting my ill-mannered assistant in his training.” She smiled, a hungry flash of teeth.

Watanuki shut up, face colouring, and jerked up the tent flap.

Doumeki set the fee on the table and followed him out.

For a moment they both simply stood there. Watanuki was glaring at the tent and Doumeki studied him in the light of the gently swaying lantern. "Will I see you again?"

Watanuki stared at him. "We might be in town next year." He ducked back into the tent, pulling the flap down firmly behind.

For a moment Doumeki stood standing at the tent flap. A colourful banner had unfurled with Watanuki’s forceful entrance, falling down over the entrance. It was a brightly painted picture of the fate-reader reclining on her couch, one hand resting on her ball and the other holding her smoking pipe suggestively.

It was a pity that Watanuki wasn't there too.

The sound of people screaming on rides and the calls of vendors trying to draw in customers to try their games were muffled but Doumeki could hear the hawking of the yakitori seller. But it didn't appeal to him at the moment.

Doumeki reached into his kimono pulling out the paper he had absently accepted. It was a flyer, listing the times and dates for the carnival. There were still a few days before they packed up and moved on. A few more days that he could return.

He stared at the name of the town they were going to next. It was only 100km away. A short trip on the bullet train.

Doumeki stared at the tent thoughtfully. Wondering if Watanuki liked yakitori.

~x~X~x~

Ahahahaha. A year? Oh Watanuki, you probably won't even get a day! XD You're lucky if Doumeki doesn't sneak back into that tent after he gets some yakitori *evil laughter*

Sometimes I wonder about all these Doumekis, though. Especially at the beginning there. Just what exactly was he thinking Watanuki was going to give him? --;; ...Hmmm. *shifty eyes* I'll have to write one about that...

I hope you liked it, my dear! It shifted a bit but hopefully it had the all the main ingredients ;D

~x~X~x~

Glass Fist

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 17:10:32 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Glass Fist
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG/M
Length: Medium Oneshot.
Comment: AU (Sleeping Serpents).
Summary: Wolf vs. Serpent.

AN: Remember this?

Something that just needed some fic to go with it *firm nod* alexiel_neesan gave me the most wonderful scenario (baseball bat!) and my mind just exploded (tiring not painful XD). You always manage to get my brain redlining XD So t~~o get my promised picture~~ here's Doumeki as a violent underworld figure. Ehehehehe.

Glass Fist

His hands shook as he lit the cigarette. Tried to. His hands were shaking so much that the lighter wouldn't catch. He finally got it but the thin flame wavered as his shaking hands lifted to the end of his cigarette-

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and the lighter slipped from his fingers, falling to the ground with a clatter.

"Nikolai." Stanislav was standing right next to him. "Do not be so nervous." He bent and picked up the lighter, handing it back with a white smile that did nothing to warm his cold blue eyes. Nor the feral arrogant look that had earned him the nickname of volk. The wolf.

"We will show that pale eyed bastard what it means to try and cut in on our turf." He gestured to where Pyotr and Saveli stood further back near the mouth of the small side street. Their tailored suits did nothing to hide their thickly muscled frames or the bulges of concealed guns.

Nikolai shoved the lighter in one of his pockets and threw the cigarette away. He didn't bother watching where it fell. "Stanislav." He glanced at the other men and lowered his voice. "Volk. This is not enough. This man, he has already crushed Kostya-"

"Nikolai." Stanislav's hand was on his shoulder again. But this time it tightened, a reminder of the power in Stanislav's hands. He might have looked like one the rich young masters of the city but Nikolai had seen him beat a man to death with a wrench. Civilized was not a word that described him.

"Nikolai." Stanislav smiled. "Kostya was a fool. Everybody knew that his grip on the city was loosening." His smile sharpened. "He was weak. And that is why he was eaten. Now that he is gone we will eat the fox that picked him off." He grinned, his vodka-laced breath gusting across Nikolai's face. "A fox will run in face of a wolf."

Light laughter came from the street. The grip on Nikolai's shoulder loosened. Suddenly Stanislav was pulling Nikolai's jacket straight, brushing off invisible lint. The look on his face, genial amusement.

Two women walked the street, crossing the mouth of the small side street. They were flashy: high heeled boots and long legs that disappeared into long open fur coats. They glanced down the alley, their eyes glossing over Pyotr and Saveli to lock on Stanislav.

Stanislav flashed them a white smile. The blonde's brightly painted mouth curved up into a knowing smile. She tightened her grip on the brunette's arm and sauntered off.

"These Easterners with their smoke and snakes." Stanislav's eyes were fixed on the alley mouth. "They slither in when there is no one is watching the ground." He suddenly clapped Nikolai's shoulder. "But it is easy enough to cut off their heads!" He jerked his head towards Pyotr and Saveli and started towards the back door that led into the club.

Nikolai pulled his jacket straight and followed. This was not good. Not even a wolf would venture into a nest of snakes.

But Stanislav was a young wolf. His mouth tightened. And Nikolai had no choice.

Stanislav grinned at him over his shoulder as Nikolai approached. He reached out and knocked on the door three times.

For a moment nothing happened. And then the door slowly opened. A slender man with short black hair stared at them for a moment and then stood back to let them in.

Stanislav grinned and walked in like he owned the place, confident like a wolf in winter. Pyotr and Saveli gave the man hostile looks but they were disdainful. The man was only half of Pyotr's size and Saveli made him look like a midget.

Nikolai was more wary. The man's eyes simply followed them, as black as his hair. Except they gave back no light.

This was not good.

There was no opposition as they walked the corridor beyond. No one to stop them from entering the large room which opened up to house a bar and a number of small tables clustered around one large booth. The men sitting at the small tables and standing along the walls were silent, simply watching as they crossed the room.

Only the doorman followed them quietly, a silent shadow.

Like a crow entering an open window. Nikolai repressed a shudder.

The others were unconcerned. Stanislav walked confidently over to the large booth to stop in front of it, standing with Pyotr and Saveli at his shoulders.

The man sitting at the table slowly lowered his glass to the table. It was a vodka glass, one with a thick solid base. Transparent liquid filled it half way and there was a bottle on the table. But it wasn't vodka. There were strange symbols written over the label in black angular lines.

He simply stared at them. Unlike Stanislav he was dressed in a simple plain white shirt, the top button undone. He was tall and broad shouldered but thin, not even a match for Stanislav. But he didn't appear frightened. The pale eyes that looked up from under his short black hair were measuring. Holding a hint of anger.

Slender pale fingers rested on his shoulder. A woman sat at his side, black hair streaming down over her shoulders and across her chest. She was wearing a thin robe that puddled around her, smooth pale flesh peeking through the bright pattern of foreign scarlet flowers highlighted in gold. A pipe was held loosely in her free hand.

She was slender like most of the easterners tended to be, almost as flat a board. But from the way Stanislav looked at her, he was willing to forego his usual taste in large breasted women.

Nikolai shifted uneasily. He knew that look. Stanislav had already decided what he would do with the woman. Nikolai wanted no part of it.

She suddenly looked up. Her dark blue eyes locked with his and Nikolai's hand suddenly rose to his chest. The pin was still there.

"Wear this Nikolai." His grandmother had gently affixed the pin with wrinkled hands that were steady despite her great age. "It will protect you."

"Against what?" He had asked.

Her dark eyes had locked solemnly with his, dark pebbles in the seams of her face. "The eye." She had pressed a hand to chest, pressing the fabric flat over the pin. "Especially from those with blue eyes."

Her eyes had narrowed. "They are covetous eyes. They can take everything from you."

The woman looked away and Nikolai resisted the urge to spit over his shoulder. This was not good. They should not have come here.

The woman leaned over and whispered something into the man's ear. He didn't change expression. Nor did his eyes leave Stanislav. "You want to talk." His voice was quiet, only a hint of an accent in his words.

Stanislav grinned and pulled out a chair, seating himself without invitation. His eyes were still on the woman. "I want to do more than talk."

The man's pale eyes flickered.

"I have heard that you are trying to make the east side of the city your own." Stanislav helped himself to one of the glasses on the table and poured himself a drink. "You are a stranger here so you don't know how things are done." He sniffed the glass then took a sip. His nose wrinkled. "If you want to move into this city you must deal with the man who owns it." He smiled. "Me."

The woman's hand had moved to the man's neck, stroking down the bare skin in slow deliberate movements.

Stanislav's eyes fixed on the slow movement. "You did me a favour in getting rid of Kostya, Dominika, and I am prepared-"

"My name is Doumeki." The man took a sip from his glass.

Stanislav smiled. "Dominika." He lifted the glass to his lips. "I am prepared to be generous." His eyes moved to the woman draped over the other man. "I will continue to let you operate in the city if you give me a cut."

Doumeki stared at Stanislav. He didn’t move but there was something about that pale stare that had a cold chill sliding slowly down Nikolai’s back.

Beware of a quiet dog and still water. Nikolai didn't move. He was suddenly very careful to make sure his hands were away from his gun and the knife tucked into his jacket. These were not snakes.

A glance showed Pyotr and Saveli were still oblivious. Not relaxed but confident.

Idiots. How could they not see? Nikolai glanced back to see the doorman. He was standing motionless only several feet away. Not good.

"You are not the master of this city." The dark look Doumeki gave Stanislav could have only been called a glare. But his voice was still level. "I don't have to give you anything."

The woman slowly sat up and uncurled, her bare feet setting on the ground. She stood, her hair falling back over her shoulders and the robe gaping open to reveal her chest-

It was a man.

Stanislav has seen as well. Surprise flashed into anger. He reached out and grabbed the man's slender wrist half pulling him across the table. Pyotr and Saveli had reached for their guns and now aimed them at Doumeki.

The man didn't resist. He simply stared at Stanislav with unsurprised blue eyes, the pipe still loosely held in one pale hand. Pliable.

An opium addict.

Stanislav looked at him and then Doumeki. He laughed. "I'll take him as a down payment." He pulled the man closer, anger burning under the show of fake joviality. "You're just as good as an eastern woman, aren't you?" He sneered. "We'll see what you'll do for your black paste-"

He broke off in a roar of pain. Doumeki was no longer sitting still. The glass he'd held had been slammed down on the hand Stanislav had resting on the table.

Saveli's gun clattered to the floor. The doorman had a knife against his ribs. A tight smile bared his teeth in a fierce scythe. His black eyes were alive now, alive with anger.

The other men in the room had moved but Pyotr had been quicker. He now held the man in the robe, gun pressed against his temple. "Let him go." He jerked his chin at Saveli who was still pinned to the table and now swearing. Pyotr's eyes slid to Saveli. "Him too." He cocked the gun's trigger, pressing the barrel hard into the side of his hostage's face. "Or I'll kill him."

Nikolai didn't move. This wasn't going to work. He glanced around the room. They were outnumbered. And no one would give themselves up for a wom- a man.

But Doumeki had frozen. A look of murderous rage crossed his face. "Watanuki."

Dark blue eyes met gold. The man smiled. Something writhed under the neck of his robe, a fast moving coil-

A snake.

Pyotr saw it and the gun jerked up.

Watanuki's arm flashed up, flinging the contents of the pipe into one of his eyes.

Pyotr screamed, releasing the man to claw at his face.

Watanuki slipped out of the way, still holding the empty pipe in his hand, as several men piled onto Pyotr. Within seconds he was on the floor.

Another man pulled Nikolai's arms behind him, twisting them up behind his back. Nikolai didn't resist.

Stanislav was swearing. "Do you know who I am?" He was clawing at the hand holding the glass down. He hissed into Doumeki's face, a snarling wolf caught in a trap. "I am-"

In one swift move, Doumeki lifted the glass and slammed it into his face. Stanislav fell to the floor, toppling a chair to the ground.

The glass was set carefully on the table and Doumeki moved to stand over Stanislav. "You are Stanislav Dityatev, son of Grigory Dityatev." He unbuttoned his sleeves and slowly started to roll them up.

Nikolai had lost sight of Watanuki but now the pale man walked into his line of sight. He wasn't holding the pipe anymore. A baseball bat was gripped in one pale hand.

Stanislav saw. His hand reached into his jacket.

Doumeki kicked him. The knife clattered to the floor and skidded under one of the tables. One of the men bent to retrieve it but Doumeki ignored it all. His eyes were still on Stanislav as he accepted the baseball bat from Watanuki. "Grigory Dityatev who is a prominent politician and has agreed that his son is a liability."

Realization slid across Stanislav's face. "You-"

"The east side of the city is mine. You can either work for me. Or-” He adjusted his grip on the baseball bat, his pale eyes unchanging. "You can leave this city."

But not in one piece. "Volk."

Stanislav's eyes turned to him. For a moment Nikolai though he might have seen reason, but then his eyes fell on the man who stood at Doumeki's side. He spat, a glob of spittle falling on the scarlet robe. “You-”

The bat fell with a horrid crunch. It was soon followed by another one. And another. But it didn't take long. Unlike Stanislav's violent attacks, the easterner carefully aimed each blow.

His face remained expressionless throughout. But anger fuelled each blow. It was fire under ice, more frightening than any explosive fury.

Watanuki simply watched, blue eyes expressionless as Stanislav was beaten to death in front of him.

Nikolai had the urge to spit over his shoulder again.

Finally the bloody baseball bat lifted. There was blood on Doumeki's face when he turned to face the three men who were held by his followers. Arcs of blood crisscrossed his white shirt.

"I'm looking for more men." He handed the baseball back to Watanuki who scowled at his shirt and started wiping the bat with a cloth one of the men handed him.

Saveli and Pyotr exchanged glances. They looked ridiculous, giants held down by faeries. But they didn’t look like they were about to take up the offer.

The doorman glanced sideways at Doumeki and he gave a confirming jerk of his head. Saveli and Pyotr were suddenly hustled out of the room.

Leaving Nikolai alone with the man who had just bludgeoned to death the person who had been set in his care.

Doumeki stared at Nikolai with pale eyes. He was silent for a long moment. "Nikolai Vengerov?"

There was no point in denying it. "Yes."

There was another long stare as Doumeki rolled down his sleeves. Then he turned and sat back in the booth. Watanuki handed the cleaned bat and bloody cloth to one of the men and then made his way back to Doumeki's side. Nikolai suddenly found himself released.

They started removing Stanislav's body. One of the men picked up the overturned chair, setting it out from the table. Nikolai stared at it for a moment then gingerly sat down.

"A drink?" Doumeki was holding the bottle, ready to pour.

Nikolai's eyes fell on the bloody glass sitting on the table. "No." He glanced away. "Thank you." He didn't feel like drinking for a while.

Watanuki was lighting his pipe, retrieved from the ground, and smiled at his reply. It was tobacco not opium that was in the pipe bowl. But the dark blue eyes that fixed on him were still unnervingly calm.

Nikolai looked away. Maybe he'd give up smoking too.

"Your father served Aleksandr Dityatev." Doumeki poured a glass for Watanuki who smiled at him.

"Yes."

"And you served Grigory Dityatev." Doumeki poured himself another glass and set the bottle on the table.

Served.

Doumeki drank, staring at him with those unnerving pale eyes. "I have been given eastern half of the city.” The glass lowered from his lips. “And you."

Nikolai felt like a shot glass had just been shoved down his throat. Sometimes, members were given to other branches in a show of good faith. But- “I serve Grigory Dityatev." His voice was firm but he was sweating. This was no good at all.

Doumeki stopped drinking. He looked at Nikolai, displeasure - a hint of anger - on his face. "Who you serve is up to you. You can join me." He set down his glass and filled the bloody one. "Or you can go back."

Go back. When Stanislav had died in his care-

He'd had orders. To keep Stanislav in line. To ensure that he didn't embarrass his father. And he hadn't had any limits in that. But-

A chill ran through him. Grigory Dityatev would not have it known that he had his son killed. It would be easier to cast the blame on someone else. Nikolai had no illusions about his importance in the scheme of things. He was disposable.

Stanislav Dityatev had been a wolf but Grigory Dityatev was a bear.

Two bears do not live in one lair.

And he didn't share. Not the city. And that meant-

A door opened. A pale-skinned woman with green eyes and thick mass of black hair. Large-breasted for an easterner. She caught his eye and smiled before sauntering over to the bar.

Nikolai recognized her. Or thought he did.

Stanislav had picked up a new woman recently. And it had been only after that he had started getting ideas about carving part of city for himself. He had heard about the weakness of Doumeki's grip on the city. And if it had been this woman-

Nikolai stared into Doumeki's small pale eyes. He had a nickname as well. The dragon.

Dragons could swallow wolves or even bears whole.

He glanced at the blood streaked glass on the table.

The river or the dragon. There wasn't much choice.

Nikolai picked up the glass.

~x~X~x~

Poor Nikolai. He‘s between a scythe and a stone XD Not that I'd want to work for Doumeki and Watanuki ^^;;;

Hmm. This is the second piece I've written for you that started with a smoking man ^^;; But hey, there was a bloody baseball bat! :D (Wasn't Doumeki hot when he rolled up his sleeves like that? XD) And Watanuki was like a freaky yakuza wife ^^;;; You've got to like that, right? :D

~x~X~x~

Cultural Corner! :D There was quite a number of awesome Russian references in this, so I'll explain them for those who aren't familiar with them :D

Knocking three times. Knocking on wood three times is meant to counter bad luck.

Like a crow entering an open window. Birds flying into windows are considered bad omens, often of death.

Long hair. There is a Russian superstition that you shouldn’t cut your hair if a member of your family is in danger…But Watanuki does it to hide he’s a man. Like Doumeki, he likes to mindfuck people ^^;;

The pin. Pining a French Pin inside a person’s clothing is said to avoid the curse of the evil eye.

Blue eyes. In certain areas (usually Greece and Turkey, true) blue eyed people are believed to be able to cast the evil eye.

Spitting over shoulders. Spitting over one’s left shoulder three times keeps evil spirits away.

Dominika. A Russian woman's name. Stanislav was using something close in pronunciation in a deliberate attempt to annoy Doumeki. *amused* If that baseball bat was an indicator, I'd say he succeeded.

Beware of a quiet dog and still water. (You should not afraid of people who make threats and shout in a loud voice; it is the people who are quiet and say little that must really be feared). Heh. I thought this described Doumeki pretty well. And Watanuki XD

Two bears do not live in one lair. (Pretty self explanatory XD)

~x~X~x~

Cat's Cry

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 12:50:39 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Cat's Cry
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki...or is it the other way? :3
Rating: PG
Length: Oneshot.
Comment: Canon (spoilers ch189). Set after Proof of Life.
Summary: Watanuki realizes that being stuck in the shop isn't so bad :D

AN: Late birthday fic for tomoyohime8. You asked for something set in the four years we missed. I'm happy to oblige :D After the last few chapters, this was too hard to resist :3

Cat's Cry

Watanuki usually didn't wake up early unless there was a customer. But when he opened his eyes Watanuki realized that not only had Moro and Maru left him alone, it was morning.

And someone had their arm wrapped tightly around his chest.

He didn't need the thread of scar tissue on the fingers cupping his ribcage to know who it was. Watanuki had only ever shared his bed with one person. And while Doumeki had a tendency to latch onto him when he was asleep - a hand, arm or leg was always attached to Watanuki in some way - he was getting used to it. It always felt like something was missing when he woke up alone.

Watanuki closed his eyes again. Concentrating on the feel of Doumeki's arm, the warmth of the large body behind him. Except for the soft regular sounds of his breathing, it was the only proof that he was there. Doumeki asleep was much like he was when he was awake - take away the eating and drinking, he didn't do much.

But Watanuki didn't mind that either.

Doumeki's hand shifted slightly, his entire arm moving to get a better hold. As if even asleep he wanted to make sure Watanuki hadn't gone anywhere. Though where he'd go would be debatable.

It would have annoyed him once but now it was almost endearing, in a weird Doumeki way. Doumeki had always shadowed his footsteps. Now that he was confined to the shop, Doumeki had practically moved in. It was comforting rather than an imposition, a remnant of the life he'd had before.

Watanuki slowly opened his eyes, gaze fixed on the butterflies that hung motionless on the gauzy curtains hanging around the bed. A smile slowly stretched his lips. Of course he didn't mind it. He'd been the one to initiate their current relationship, after all.

His smile widened, a sense of smugness stirring. It had gone pretty much as he had expected. Doumeki was happy to attend to his bodily needs. Not just in the bedroom but from day to day. He grinned. Doumeki was the one who brought him the food these days.

The arm across his chest tightened. With purpose. "What are you thinking about?"

It was surprising that Doumeki was awake. He slipped from sleep to wakefulness as easily as he did eating to drinking. "You have a lecture this morning." It wouldn't do to let Doumeki get the impression Watanuki's first waking thoughts were about him.

"Not until eleven." Doumeki suddenly pulled him back.

Watanuki smiled as he felt Doumeki's body flush against him. The hardness that pressed against him. "You have a lot of free time don't you?"

There was no answer. Except for Doumeki's wandering hand which told Watanuki that Doumeki had worked out exactly what he wanted to do with his free time.

Watanuki grabbed his hand and rolled over, taking Doumeki by surprise and pinning him to the mattress. Doumeki's eyes were wide but soon narrowed into the wary expression Watanuki had come to enjoy.

Watanuki smiled down at him. He had all the time in the world.

~x~X~x~

Ehehehe. I think Doumeki's going to be late for that lecture XD *grin* It would be in his interest to tire Watanuki out so he can escape :3 Though I miss the spazzes, I love Watanuki's new playfulness. *amused* Doumeki might have his hands full (literally) with this aspect of Watanuki.

Ehehehe. But I doubt Doumeki minds keeping Watanuki busy. Nor above finding devious ways to do it.

XDDDD Oh dear, I have to write some crack about that XD Seriously with that glare he just needs cat on his lap and an eyepatch. A cat...XD

Pfft. *sly grin* Surely I wasn't the only one thinking this XD Ah CLAMP, I love all the sly innuendos XD We all know what you're trying to tell us :D

*ahem* There you go my dear. A bit set during the timeskip - and some pictures too! XD I hope you enjoyed it (I did XD).

~x~X~x~

Broken String

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 12:35:16 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Broken String
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki, Ryuunosuke/Susume
Rating: PG
Length: Oneshot
Comment: AU (Dark Gyre). Set before Wine & Comfort
Summary: A desperate wish is made.

AN: Long overdue birthday fic for shingo_the_pest. I was avoiding writing it. I don't like to think about what happened to these two. *small smile* But of course, I will for you. You wanted to know how Yuuko knew the servant boys from Wine & Comfort. Here you go.

Broken String

There was a rattle of tack, the sound of hooves on cobbles. The carriage pulled up with a protesting squeak as the driver applied the brake. Rain spattered down on the hard roof as the footman jumped down to the wet cobbles and smartly opened the cabin door.

For a moment there was only the darkness of the unlit space within and then the passenger passed through the open doorway. One black gloved hand gripped the side of the carriage frame even as the other extended to the footman. Iridescent butterflies glinted in the lamp light on a sky of deep purple velvet as the lady set an elegant boot on the footstep.

The footman carefully took the offered hand and guided her to the slippery cobbles. Once certain that she had her footing, the man shut the door, sealing the cabin once more.

The lady simply stood there for a moment, surveying the entrance of the ancient keep. The paint on the thick oak door was faded, flaking to reveal the timber underneath. There were small plants growing up between the cobbles near the thick stone wall and moss had shrouded the cobbles in some places with a bright green blanket. The castle had stood for centuries but now neglect was slowly working its subtle treachery.

But not opposed. Her eyes caught sight of a small window. It glistened amidst the old stone, the immaculate pane of glass lit with light beyond. Someone was attempting to combat the long years of disrepair.

She adjusted the shawl draped over her head and strode to the door, boots clicking sharply as she crossed the cobbles. A sharp pull on the bell rope hanging by the door was echoed by the muffled ring of the bell within the walls.

The door opened almost immediately. A tall lanky boy wearing over-sized livery that hung loose over his skinny frame stood in the shadowed doorway. As he bowed, she saw several holes and tears in the ill-fitting uniform which had been mended by tiny precise stitches.

The lady couldn't help smile slightly at the thought of the mender. But the smile faded as she considered the reason why she had come. "I'm here to see Duke Shijo."

The boy nodded silently and stepped back to let her to enter. She surveyed the entrance, pulling her shawl down off her head as he closed the door. There was no light except for the lantern sitting on the floor but she could see enough. The slate flooring was scrubbed and polished, the wooden banister leading up stairs freshly waxed.

The light shifted as the boy lifted the lantern, throwing the ancient armour standing on a pedestal into sharp relief. The metal glinted dully. Someone had made an attempt to clean it but no amount of scrubbing could have erased the stains that discoloured the helm and breastplate.

The boy led her down a poorly lit corridor further into the keep. There were more signs of repair: neat stitches of slightly different coloured threads closing holes in tapestries; crack lines were vases and statuettes had been reconstructed; and even odd tiles that had been cut to fit with the old mosaics underfoot. They were small attempts in face of the overwhelming neglect but spots of hope, nonetheless.

They finally stopped at a large oak door, nearly as solid as the keep's inner gate. The boy knocked sharply and then pushed open the door, leaning on it with one skinny shoulder. The door gave with a protesting groan, turning slowly on its thick hinges and opening a view into the room beyond.

It had once been a dining hall but now had fallen to ruin. Ragged banners hung limply from the high ceiling, their colours faded and devices indistinct. The long table that stretched the length of the hall was draped what looked to be in bed sheets. Only two chairs were tucked under the makeshift table cloth. They were ill-matched: a heavy ornate chair that resembled a throne and a simple stool that looked like it had been scavenged from the kitchens. The grander chair was set by the table in expectation but the stool was occupied.

"Lady Ichihara." Duke Shijo stood, his movements stiff, and limped down the hall to take her gloved hand in his. His lips were a soft fleeting pressure. "I am grateful beyond words that you have make the long journey to Shijo-jo." He smiled, a slight twitch of lips. "I hope the trip was uneventful."

"There were no delays." It would have been impossible for anyone else who tried to make the journey. But the roads were not the only way open to her.

Duke Shijo's smile faded, shadowed by the words left unsaid. Still keeping her hand in his, he led her to the ornate chair and helped her to be seated. "Doumeki." The duke glanced at her guide. "Ask Watanuki to prepare some refreshments for our guest."

The boy shot a sharp look at the duke then glanced at her. He nodded and left the room as silently as he had entered it.

The duke watched him leave. "He hardly speaks a word but he's a hard worker." He smiled, a rictus of good humour. "And loyal." There was no bitterness in his voice but the sadness was worse.

He limped the few steps back to his stool and sat. His eyes turned to her, pale eye glittering in the gaunt lines of his face. "Fukuoka-jo has fallen.” The words were abrupt. “My brother has been killed and Kogara advances. He will not suffer my people to live."

Fires in the night. The campfires that were spread across the countryside were unconcealed, lights that threatened to rival the stars hidden by the clouds.

"Ooka and Tanuma have surrendered. We stand alone." His eyes lifted to the banners hanging from the roof. "What forces we had were crushed at the border. Those who did not flee were slaughtered." He picked up the glass on the table and drank.

Yuuko waited silently, the state of affairs unfolding darkly in her mind.

"As things stand, there is no way to defend our land." The glass was set back on the table. "I sent a messenger to negotiate a possible surrender." His face grew tight. "The terms received were unacceptable."

Death. And more death. The stench of it was an invisible presence within the hall, a weight that pressed down on the thick buttresses that held up the groaning roof overhead.

The duke's fist suddenly hammered down on the table with a loud thump, making the heavy glass on the table jump. "Kogara has butchered my family." The words were a grief-stricken hiss. "I will not let him do the same with the last of my people!"

The door suddenly swung open, the thick portal suddenly giving way. Doumeki gave the door another push with both hands and the boy following him stepped into the room. He was burdened with a large tray but he still had the time to give the other boy a glare.

But the expression was wiped away by solemn concentration as he crossed the room and set the tray on the table. The lid was lifted with a small flourish that would have been comical under other circumstances.

The offering was simple. A number of small rolls: vegetables and rice wrapped in thin bread. What could be scavenged from the provisions.

Yuuko smiled at him and received a shy smile in return. It turned into a scowl as Doumeki came up and took the tray lid from Watanuki's hand.

The duke smiled faintly and made a small gesture. The boys retreated across the hall, Doumeki pulling the door shut behind them. A muffled voice started up as soon as they were blocked up from the hall.

Yuuko picked up a roll and smiled. The soul was still the same.

The duke's gaze was fixed on the door but his smile faded as Watanuki's muffled voice dwindled. "I have sent Ryuunosuke to escort survivors to the safety of the mountains. From there they might refuge beyond Kogara's reach." He smiled faintly. "He didn't want to go but I made him. If anyone can see them safe, it will be him."

Yuuko could imagine how hard the parting had been, She stared down at the bed sheet covering the table. It was several days hard travel. If they were caught at the foothills, it meant annihilation. And Duke Shijo knew that. Yuuko slowly pushed aside the tray. "Your wish."

"Time." His hand closed on the glass that sat on the table. His fingers and knuckles were white. "Kogara needs to be distracted." He drew in a breath. "I am a cripple, no threat. But if I can occupy him here long enough, then there is a chance."

The solution unfurled, a dark ribbon that twisted and bent to form a bulky silhouette. It could draw the fires spread out over the land but only if-

She met his gaze gravely. "I can grant your wish."

"And the price?" The duke was still, braced against the news to come.

Yuuko felt the answer like a coat of dark frost. “Hope."

The duke's set his glass down on the table with an unsteady hand. For a moment he was silent, staring down to hide his face. "I thought it would be the last time." It was said softly, edged with grief. One last unspoken wish was crushed. But as it died, it flared new life into the one he had voiced. Already grim determination was filling him, pulling back his shoulders and making him straighten in his chair.

"Use the armour when the time comes. You will give them the time they need." Kogara’s vast army would never be able to catch up with them. If they did follow, they would less than a third their number.

"Thank you." It was said softly but heartfelt.

Yuuko nodded and stood. Her business here was completed. And there was somewhere else she should be.

The duke stood as well. "Good bye Yuuko." He took her gloved hand and kissed it again.

She smiled with her lips. "Farewell Susume." It would be the last time they saw each other.

The door opened again. If Doumeki had been listening his face didn't show it. Yuuko gripped Susume's hand then slid hers free. She didn't glance back as she left the hall.

The walk back seemed shorter. Soon she was standing in front of the suit of armour again. Yuuko stared at it gravely, eyes on the dark stains smeared over the metal. It had been used once and would only be used once more.

Doumeki opened the thick gate door and held it open for her. His eyes met hers in a steady stare.

The urge to say something was almost overpowering. But nothing she said would change anything. She nodded and stepped outside, pulling the shawl back up over her head. It was raining harder now.

The door was shutting behind her even as the footman opened the carriage door. Yuuko accepted his help to climb inside and settled herself on the seat. Within moments the carriage was turning and the horses started to pick up their pace as they left the central keep behind.

Men in the outer bailey stared briefly at the carriage as it passed and then they were turning back to their tasks. Working on shoring up the fortifications.

A sense of foreboding overtook Yuuko as the carriage rattled through the outer gate. She peered back through the window framed with heavy velvet curtains.

Lightning flashed, lighting the old stronghold. For a moment it appeared whole, the defensive walls strong and formidable. Then fleeting light vanished and it was a derelict folly once more.

~x~X~x~

*sigh* And you know what happens next (for those of you who don't, you can read Wine & Comfort). I'm not going to go into details.

*wry smile* You certainly know how to pick birthday fic, shingo. There wasn't much 104 but I hope it was what you wanted :)

~x~X~x~

On to Wine & Comfort

~x~X~x~

Lightening Skies

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 14:37:25 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Lightening Skies
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG
Length: Drabble
Comment: Canon
Summary: Doumeki likes early mornings :)

An: Belated birthday fic for yoiyami (I'm terrible >.>). You wanted a established romance story, 'a bedroom with sunlight coming in through a high window' with a kiss. Here you go :D

Lightening Skies

The high window was a pale square of sky, the light grey of predawn. Shizuka stared up at it, idly contemplating how long it would take the small square to shift from grey to pale blue. On another morning he might have gotten up and taken advantage of the cool morning to sweep the temple grounds. But he was happy this morning to stay in bed.

"What are you smirking about?"

Shizuka turned his head. Kimihiro was watching him, his head cradled on one arm. His hair was even messier than usual, looking like he had been burying his head into the pillow while he slept. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Kimihiro sounded unconvinced. He propped himself up on one elbow, eyeing Shizuka narrowly. "It doesn't look like nothing."

Shizuka always found himself mildly surprised that Kimihiro had the energy to be combative after so little sleep. Of course, it had its benefits. "I like sleeping over."

Kimihiro snorted. "Breakfast?"

Shizuka's smile widened. "You."

Kimihiro blinked. He suddenly straightened his arm, leaning over Shizuka. He bent low, their lips nearly touching. "Me?"

He lifted his head so that their lips touched, a soft kiss. "You."

Kimihiro smiled and set a hand on his shoulder, leaning down again.

By the time Shizuka thought to look at the window again, light poured into the room through the high window. Not pale blue. Pure gold.

~x~X~x~

Ehehehe. Beats sweeping any day XD

Short but sweet. I hope it was what you wanted, my dear! :D Light and peaceful :)

~x~X~x~

Black Marked

Mon, 19 Oct 2009 05:00:47 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Black Marked
Pairing: Watanuki/Doumeki
Rating: PG
Length: Short Oneshot
Comment: AU (Eye & Hand)
Summary: Doumeki brings trouble home XD

AN: Late birthday fic for kazahayakudou. You asked for something humorous with a WWII background. I think I can manage that ;D

Black Marked

One minute he was alone in the kitchen and in the next Doumeki was walking in, something heavy slung over one shoulder.

Watanuki stared at him. Not for the appearing act - he was used to Doumeki sneaking up on him by now - but what the idiot had illegally, yes illegally, obtained this time. They were in the middle of a war, Christ help them, and there was no other way but the black market to provide what Doumeki regularly brought home.

"Dinner." Doumeki ignored his glare and bent to slide the bundle off his shoulder and onto the bench with a meaty thunk.

Dinner?! Watanuki looked at the hessian-wrapped parcel that looked even bigger than when it had been on Doumeki's shoulder. God what was it, half a cow? "Don't tell me you got that from Alastaire!”

Doumeki's eyes had fallen on the fruit bowl. He snagged an apple and took a bite. "Okay." It was barely discernable through the fruit.

Watanuki's eye twitched and his grip tightened on the potato peeler. It was bad enough that half of Intelligence was looking at them sideways - just why were two half-blood soldiers living in the English countryside together when Japan was at war with the Allies? But Doumeki's raids across the countryside were also causing problems. It wouldn't be long before the local constabulary was after them and then it would be the camps- Watanuki set down the potato he held before he squished it. All because Doumeki couldn't go without meat for a week.

Watanuki flipped back the concealing sacking and barely restrained the urge to stab Doumeki with the potato peeler. It wasn't half a cow but it was close. "Where did you get it?" A horrible thought occurred to him. "You didn't kill it, did you?" God, Doumeki hadn't resorted to poaching, had he?

The haunch could have been a cabbage for all the concern Doumeki showed. He continued munching on his apple. "No."

Suspicious, Watanuki squinted at the bloody slab of meat. It certainly looked like it had just been cut off a cow.

Doumeki took another bite. "Alastaire did."

For a second Watanuki didn't know what he was talking about. And then the dots connected. "WHAT?!" Doumeki killing a cow was bad enough. But at least he'd do it without anyone noticing. Alastaire on the other hand- He’d probably done in full view on the village green. "And you just stood there and let him shoot someone's cow?!"

Doumeki just looked at him. "He didn't shoot it." He took another bite of the apple. Doumeki's bites were big and there wasn't much left of it at this stage.

"God damn it, Doumeki!" Watanuki didn't really care how he killed it. The fact was he had. Everyone was on rations and slaughtering livestock was a criminal offence. An offence in which Doumeki was an accomplice and Watanuki was now implicated in thanks to the fact that half the bloody cow was now on his bench. "How can you-"

"He hit it with his Bentley." Doumeki said it like it was an everyday occurrence.

Watanuki gaped at him, anger gutted with sheer shock. With his Bentley-

"It would be a waste just to let it rot." Doumeki finished off the apple, tossing the core with effortless accuracy into the leftovers bin. "Alastaire paid the farmer. He'll write it off as an accident."

It sounded like Alastaire had done something like this before. Watanuki wanted to sit down. It was worse than poaching. Doumeki had just taken one more step down the slippery slope to becoming a black marketeer. The idiot.

Watanuki stared at the bloody haunch. "What the hell am I going to do with this?" He still had contacts in Intelligence but he'd already used them to get Doumeki out of trouble with the American soldiers billeted in the next village. Watanuki doubted that he had enough favours to get something like this swept under the carpet if it came out.

"Make some roast beef." Doumeki had wandered over the cupboard, helping himself to a glass. He set it on the bench.

Watanuki favoured the idiot with a stare he might have given a cockroach invading his kitchen. This wasn't the time to be making jokes.

Doumeki waved his left arm, the empty end of the sleeve flapping limply. "I can't cook it."

Watanuki glared at him. "You're not the only one on medical discharge."

Doumeki shrugged. "You don't need two eyes to cook."

This time Watanuki didn't fight the urge. In one fast move he scooped up a pear and lobbed it straight at Doumeki's head.

Doumeki caught it just short of his face. He examined it for a second then took a bite out of it.

"Stop eating so much fruit!" Watanuki felt like throwing something else but Doumeki would only eat that, too. Lord have mercy, was he the only one who had any sense in this house? He knew that living with Doumeki was going to be a disaster. He must have lost his brain along with his eye.

But he wasn't quite ready to turf Doumeki out.

You never would. Watanuki crossed his arms and scowled down a the slab of beef, trying to ignore that thought. He could if he wanted to. But winter was coming and Doumeki kept the bed warm.

Watanuki glared at the piece of dead cow. If he wanted to keep the idiot around, he was going to have to get rid of this beef. And stuffing it down Doumeki's throat was one of the easiest ways of doing it.

Doumeki was watching him. And from the way he was standing, he knew he'd won. It wasn't a particular expression, more like a confident and expectant watchfulness that oozed from his entire body.

Bastard.

Watanuki ground his teeth. "You're going to eat beef for the next few weeks. Until there's nothing left."

Doumeki nodded agreeably.

"And if anyone finds out, I'm going to blame you. I had nothing to do with it." He grabbed a potato and started peeling it, cutting off thick slices of skin. Doumeki liked them in their jackets but that was too bad. He was getting beef and that was as far as Watanuki was prepared to go. The chickens could have the potato peels.

The sounds behind him indicated that Doumeki was helping himself to water from the tap. Watanuki ignored him, eyeing the slab of meat. It would take a while to use it up. Even feeding it to Doumeki. But he'd eat it all, one way or another.

And until then, Watanuki would just have to hide it in the basement larder. Along with the bottles of sake Doumeki had gotten from god knows where.

~x~X~x~

*giggle* I suspect Doumeki gets half his diet from what Watanuki throws at him XD I hope that this was what you wanted. If it wasn’t…well you did want some of my humour ^^;; Doumeki’s so naughty – but when it comes to food, the legalities don’t matter XD I hope you enjoyed it and that you had an absolutely wonderful birthday :D

...I'm sort of getting fond of these two now. And getting visions of Watanuki hiding Doumeki’s prosthetic hand attachments because he used to spear food with them XD

~x~X~x~

Proof Of Life

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 13:37:12 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Proof of Life
Pairing: Watanuki/Doumeki
Rating: PG
Length: Oneshot
Comment: Canon (spoilers TRC 223, xXxholic 187).
Summary: Watanuki finds comfort in the fact that he's alive.

AN: Ahahaha. That title makes it sound like something else. As does that summary XDDDD Here a different take on the situation. Comfort, eh? *evil laughter* Comfort comes in many forms :3

Proof of Life

Thank you for giving birth to me.

He had meant those words and he still did. Watanuki was grateful to have lived the life he had, to meet the people in the world he had lived in.

Simply existing along with one’s companions is more than enough. Yuuko had told him that. And Watanuki had grown to believe it.

The smoke from Yuuko's pipe curled, twisting in a momentary still patch of air. It hazed the view of the garden, the limits of his world. The leaves of the trees were changing; a few scarlet slips had already fallen to the grass. The streets beyond the gate would have been awash with the changing colours. Doumeki would soon have to start sweeping every morning at the temple to gather them up.

Watanuki smiled. Doumeki couldn't make Watanuki help him every morning like he used to. His smile faded slightly. He wouldn't have minded too much now. Separated from the things he used to do, Watanuki now looked back at them with something like fondness. Even the chores Doumeki had once demanded of him, didn't seem so bad in retrospect. It was proof that he had been part of the world Doumeki existed in.

He wasn't sure if he was alive anymore. Yuuko had been dead but she had still held the shop. She had been tangible just as he was now. And he couldn't really call what he did as living. He slept and ate. He did what he could to grant the customers who came to the store.

He waited.

Watanuki's grip on the pipe shifted slightly, disturbing the line of rising smoke. He wasn't sure even if he could call what he had lived as a real life. He had been born but not in the way that other people were born.

The same but not the same. In way, his current existence suited him. A half-life that reflected his birth.

He had always stood alone. Until Himawari and Doumeki had approached him and become people he could now call friends. And it had been Doumeki who had somehow worked his way into his life, not just as school but outside of it. He had protested at first but Watanuki had come to rely on him. Even now.

His gaze slid sideways as he lifted the cup to his lips. Doumeki still drank on the porch. What had changed was that Watanuki now drank with him.

Himawari came to visit him sometimes. Her bright smiles and cheerful manner were a welcome reprieve from his long, usually uneventful, days. Just the sight of her was enough to cheer him.

Kohane visited more regularly. Usually bringing something she had cooked or with news from her obaasan on the arrival of customers. She was growing older before his eyes, growing taller, changing from a girl into a woman.

Doumeki was changing, too. But he visited so often that it was less gradual to Watanuki’s eyes than the changes in Kohane and even Himawari. Doumeki came by almost every day.

He hadn’t expected that. Watanuki thought that time would eventually open up distance between them. But Doumeki had continued to show up, usually dropping in after his classes at university.

Studying folklore. Watanuki’s mouth quirked. Doumeki hadn’t changed much. Not in personality.

It was only when Watanuki really looked at him that he saw the changes which had taken place. Doumeki had gotten taller, his lanky body filling out. His jaw had lengthened subtly changing the shape of his face. He looked more mature. Older.

Watanuki stayed the same. He was still an adolescent while Himawari and Doumeki were already adults. He'd gotten used to Doumeki being taller than him - he'd never catch up to him now. It didn't irritate him as it once would have. They were in different worlds - Doumeki aged and Watanuki didn't. It no longer seemed important to surpass Doumeki. He couldn't so there was no point in worrying about it.

But there was a problem with remaining an adolescent. He was forever stuck in state of raging hormones without little but his hand to give him relief. He'd never had a high libido but now that he didn't have school – or all the chores he used to do for Doumeki - to fill his days, sex had been one of things Watanuki had been thinking about more and more.

He couldn't leave the shop. The only people he would ever see would be customers. Customers and the three other people who could enter the store. Kohane was still a like a little sister no matter how she was fast becoming a woman. And Himawari...Watanuki had given up on any hopes of being with her. He was he couldn't offer any her sort of life, stuck as he was in the shop.

And that left Doumeki.

Since he had started living at the shop, Watanuki had started paying closer attention to the archer. Now that he was confined to the shop, aside from Mokona, Maru and Moro, Doumeki was the person Watanuki who spent most of his time with.

Watanuki had amused himself by observing the changes that time was making on Doumeki. There wasn't much else to do and Doumeki was something that at least showed change. And the more he watched Doumeki, Watanuki found that he was getting to read the man better.

Doumeki wasn't totally expressionless. His eyebrows moved occasionally.

And his eyes. He'd caught Doumeki looking at him. At first Watanuki had thought it was idle curiosity. That Doumeki was charting his unchanging physical state against his own growth. But Doumeki wasn't one to do anything idly.

It wasn't until one day when Watanuki was lying on the couch, observing the rising pipe smoke beneath lowered lids, that it finally occurred to him. That Doumeki was checking him out. And not for injuries.

He'd tested the theory the next time Doumeki had visited. He didn't bother to get changed. Or straighten his kimono to cover up the expanse of his leg which showed where it gaped open.

Doumeki hadn't changed expression but Watanuki caught the glance to his bare thigh. In some way or another, Doumeki was interesting in him.

It had been with mild surprise that he realized it didn't bother him. There had been customers who had stared at him, too. He'd gotten used to it. But it was different with Doumeki. Watanuki had never considered it before.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Why Doumeki had insisted on staying with him when complaining that he was an idiot. Why Doumeki had risked so much for him, even his life. Why Doumeki came to the shop so regularly when anyone else would simply go to a restaurant if they were simply interested in good food.

Not much could pull him from the hazed repetition that filled his days. But Doumeki could. Doumeki was increasingly a reason to stay connected to the world. To enjoy each day as it came, to do and not to simply wait.

A sense of recklessness filled him as he studied Doumeki over the rim of his cup. He wasn’t getting older but Doumeki was. There was no point waiting, was there?

Doumeki had noticed him staring. "What?" He looked slightly wary.

Watanuki's smile widened. He might not be able to best Doumeki in physical terms anymore, but he was realizing that he had the upper hand in other ways. The thought had him stirring, the muscles of his stomach drawing tight. He slowly drew one of his legs up, letting his kimono fall open, the drape of cloth falling down to mould itself to his lap.

Doumeki had been in the act of drinking some more sake. The sip suddenly turned into a gulp and he choked.

Watanuki watched in wicked amusement as he recovered. It didn't look like he'd been wrong. It made him feel somewhat smug. Now even Doumeki had finally bowed before the great Watanuki-sama. His smugness increased at finally besting Doumeki. It made him feel like he had before he had inherited the shop.

It made him feel like he was alive.

He rested his elbow on his knee, the hand holding the pipe cradling his chin. “Do you want to stay the night?”

Doumeki stared at him in disbelief, eyes wide, his little gold eyes stranded in white. His mouth was partly open as if he didn't know what to say.

It made Watanuki want to laugh in triumph. He'd managed to shock Doumeki out of his habitual impassiveness.

But Doumeki's shock soon morphed into a frown. He was studying Watanuki as if he thought he'd been smoking something illegal.

That wasn't what Watanuki wanted him worrying about. He set the pipe and his sake cup carefully aside. Then he leaned forward and placed a hand along the side of Doumeki's face, the way Yuuko had done so many times to him. He didn't touch Doumeki often and he found that it was exciting now he was.

Doumeki's eyes were wide again. He had frozen in place, still under Watanuki's hand.

The smile wouldn't leave his lips. Watanuki studied Doumeki's face, tilting his head up for a better look. He'd made his decision. He wasn't just going to wait anymore. Not when Doumeki was here and willing. "Stay the night with me."

The muscles in Doumeki's jaw shifted under Watanuki's hand as he swallowed. It didn't show on his face - if Watanuki hadn't been touching him, he wouldn't have even known.

"You're drunk." Doumeki said it flatly. But Watanuki saw the slight fleeting uncertainty in his eyes.

Watanuki stood, hand sliding off Doumeki's face. He looked down at him, unable to stop smiling. "Are you going to risk the chance that you're wrong?"

He could see by Doumeki's face that he had him. Watanuki started walking down the veranda heading towards his room. Confident that Doumeki would follow.

He had only taken a few steps when Doumeki's sake cup was suddenly set down on the veranda and Doumeki got up. Walking after him.

Nothing he did was free. Everything he gave had a price. But Doumeki could handle himself.

Growing excitement and anticipation burned away the last of Watanuki's lingering lassitude. He would give Doumeki what he wanted. And Watanuki would get what he wanted. To regain some of the things he had lost since he had inherited the shop. To feel close to Doumeki again.

To have confirmation that he was alive. Living not just waiting.

And if that wasn't enough payment, Doumeki could become his errand boy. Now that Watanuki was tied to the shop, Doumeki could be the one who ran errands and brought him food.

Watanuki smiled to himself. If Doumeki's eager footsteps were anything to judge by he didn't think Doumeki would mind.

~x~X~x~

Ehehehe. Am I right in assume this is the sort of comfort you were talking about? :3 Too bad if it wasn't XD You go Watanuki! Use that new sexiness to boss Doumeki around XDDDD

Oh and lets have an Omake. Just because I love pictures :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

~x~X~x~

~x~X~x~

I hope you enjoy that, my dear! And even if it wasn't quite what you requested, they fulfilled something of what you wanted :D

~x~X~x~

On to Cat's Cry

~x~X~x~

Let Me In

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 13:12:57 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Let Me In
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG
Length: Oneshot. Song fic (god help us all >.>)
Comment: Canon (spoiler TRC 223, xXxholic 187)
Summary: Doumeki tries to give Watanuki comfort.

AN: Belated birthday fic for strawrose. You wanted some fic where Doumeki comforts Watanuki after he meets with his parents. Considering how events in TRC 223 have turned out now, it allows me to write this (yay technicalities XD). Somehow it got turned into a song fic (:O) but you'll just have to forgive me that. Feel free to ignore that aspect if you want to.

Let Me In

The cherry blossoms had unfurled. Thousands of them forming clouds of pale pink that hazed the branches holding held them in the air. A few loose petals fell and tumbled, spiralling downward as a light breeze knocked them loose.

Doumeki stared up at them, the ribbon of the rosette pinned to his chest fluttering in the same breeze. He had graduated today. But he didn't feel any sense of achievement. None of the emotion his classmates were showing as they hugged each other and smiled for the photos they took under the cherries.

This wasn't how he'd pictured this day.

A soft noise at his side had him turning his head. Kunogi. She stood staring up at the blossoms, her face grave. Even Tanpopo was silent, the small yellow bird a huddled ball of bright yellow feathers.

A few strands of her hair lifted on the breeze to catch one of the falling petals. It clung for a moment, pale pink on black, then tumbled to fall on the grass.

She didn't say anything but Doumeki still heard the silent words.

If only Watanuki could be here.

~x~X~x~

Pick apart
The pieces of your heart

~x~X~x~

"Welcome to the shop!" The two girls stood waiting for him in the doorway.

He stared at them for a moment. They were treating him like a customer. They always did. But today it disturbed him more than usual. It felt like Watanuki was even further out of reach, no longer Watanuki but the owner of the shop.

Moro and Maru had grabbed his arms and started pulling him down the corridor. Doumeki slipped off his shoes and let them guide him inside.

To Watanuki.

They led him down to the corridor where Watanuki usually was. Doumeki mentally braced himself as they slid open the painted doors. Watanuki no longer acted the same. No longer dressed the same. He had started to assume the same mannerisms Yuuko had possessed. A languid sensuality that Doumeki would have once thought impossible but Watanuki now assumed as if he had always acted this way.

It worried him even as it made him aware of how Watanuki hadn't changed. Watanuki was no longer neat and impeccably dressed. He was dishelmed more often than not, thinking nothing of letting his kimono slip open to bare a shoulder or leg. To show his body hadn’t changed at all.

And in some ways that was harder to ignore than the changes.

The doors slid open. But Watanuki wasn't on the couch. Instead the girls led Doumeki to the shoji doors leading to the veranda and slid them open.

Watanuki was lounging on the porch, his kimono half sliding off one shoulder, the skirts puddled around his legs. Yuuko's pipe was lightly grasped in one hand as it draped over his thigh, a long thin coil of smoke stretching up to the roof.

Doumeki glanced at Mokona, who was sitting on the veranda next to him, and received a solemn look. No change.

Watanuki turned his head over his shoulder to look at him. His movements were slow, his bicoloured eyes dull as they fixed on Doumeki. "Shouldn't you be out celebrating?" He smiled, his eyes suddenly amused. "Or did you want something from me?"

~x~X~x~

And let me peer inside
Let me in
Where only your thoughts have been

~x~X~x~

Once he'd been able to read Watanuki clearly. If Watanuki hadn't shouted what he was thinking at the top of his lungs then his body had transmitted his agitation for him.

Now Watanuki was like the piece of popcorn that stubbornly refused to burst. He just sat there.

Doumeki held up the bag he held. "I brought some of my grandfather's sake."

Watanuki slowly sat up. "And I suppose you'll want something with it." He sounded only vaguely annoyed. He tapped the pipe on the haifuki (1) and set a hand on the veranda, levering himself up. "I guess it can't be helped." He reached out for the bag and Doumeki handed it over.

Their eyes met and Watanuki smiled before walking past him to the sliding doors. He smelt like smoke and something sweet.

Doumeki's gaze turned automatically to the discarded pipe. But a single cherry blossom sat on the rough boards of the veranda, placed down carefully next to the haifuki. It must have come from one of the trees in the yard. The only piece of the outside world Watanuki had.

Doumeki turned back to Watanuki, catching a glimpse of his back as he walked inside. It told him nothing.

~x~X~x~

Let me occupy your mind
As you do mine

~x~X~x~

Watanuki took a sip of sake, the pipe hanging loosely from his other hand. "What are you going to do now?"

Doumeki stared out at the cherry trees in the yard. "I’m going to university."

Watanuki turned his head to stare at him, the hand holding the pipe coming to rest under his chin. "I though you were going to take over duties at the shrine."

Doumeki met his gaze. "I'll be studying folklore (2)." It would be years until the shrine was his responsibility. At the moment this was more important.

For a long moment Watanuki was silent. "Why the sudden change?" There was almost a mocking tone to the question.

Doumeki didn't rise to the bait. "I'm interested in it." His grandfather's things didn't hold answers. But they must be out there to find.

One side of Watanuki's mouth turned up. He took another sip of sake. "It's an interesting career choice."

He wasn't doing it for future employment opportunities. Doumeki had only one goal in mind.

~x~X~x~

You have lost
Too much love
To fear, doubt and distrust
(It's not enough)
You just threw away the key
To your heart

~x~X~x~

It was the same every time Doumeki visited the shop. Watanuki would spend his time either smoking or sleeping.

Sometimes it was like Watanuki had stopped living. That he only existed to serve the customers who came to the shop.

“How are your parents?” Watanuki asked suddenly, one night as they drank sake together on the verandah. It was early winter and the air was cold but Watanuki seemed to barely notice, wrapped in layers of robes.

“Well. They’re going to Hokone for the weekend.” His mother had been so happy at the surprise trip to her favourite hot springs, that she urged him to take another bottle as he left.

Watanuki was silent for a long moment. He had a slightly sad look on his face that told Doumeki he was thinking of his own parents. He didn’t mention them often but Doumeki had noticed that he had been thinking about them more since he had inherited the shop.

He suddenly glanced up, meeting Doumeki’s gaze. “How do you explain all your visits?”

Doumeki shrugged. “That I’m visiting a friend.”

A slight smile appeared on Watanuki face and he leaned back on one arm. “They probably think you have a girlfriend.”

That would be difficult.

Watanuki’s smile widened at his silence. “Do you?”

Being asked that question, by Watanuki of all people, annoyed him. “No.” A girlfriend wasn’t what he had in mind. “What about you?”

Watanuki’s eyebrows rose then lowered again. “I don’t have much chance to get out, do I?” It sounded like he was getting a bit irritated himself. There was an echo of the old sarcastic snap in his voice.

“What about Himawari?” Doumeki was curious, though he didn’t show it.

Watanuki’s smile faded. “Himawari has her own life now.” He took a sip from his cup and turned his gaze out onto the garden. His voice was soft. “That’s not my fate.”

Doumeki frowned into his sake. Watanuki was waiting and didn't see the life he could be living. The life that Doumeki wanted to share with him.

~x~X~x~

You don't get burned
('Cause nothing gets through)
It makes it easier
(Easier on you)
But that much more difficult for me
To make you see

~x~X~x~

Doumeki stopped dead when he saw Watanuki lying on the couch. “What happened?”

Watanuki started easing himself upright but stopped with a wince. “I had a customer today.” He adjusted the pillow supporting his arm on his lap.

Doumeki’s eyes remained fixed on the thick bandages. “What happened?”

“She was having problems with her marriage.” Watanuki picked up his pipe with his uninjured hand. “She had fallen in love one of her work colleagues and found to her delight that her feelings were returned. Within a year she had resigned from her job and they were married.” He lifted the pipe to his lips and drew in a long breath. A slow trickle of smoke flowed from between his parted lips.

Doumeki waited patiently, knowing that the happy story had to have taken a bad turn if the woman had come to the shop.

The pipe left Watanuki’s lips. “At first she was happy. They had a new apartment and she was enjoying the novelty of being a housewife.” He paused, face grave. “But slowly she became aware that something was wrong. Her husband started coming home later and later, often not even coming home at all. When she asked him about it, he claimed that he had to work overtime. But she didn’t believe him. It seemed that he was avoiding her. After time she began to suspect he was having an affair.” Watanuki fell silent again, setting the pipe to his mouth.

“What did she want?” A glance at Mokona’s grave face didn’t inspire the thought that it had been a reasonable wish.

“Her wish was to become attractive.” Watanuki watched the smoke rising to the ceiling. “She thought that was the reason why her husband was looking elsewhere.” His eyes moved, tracing the thin lines. “In some way she must have known the truth even if she didn’t acknowledge it. She had become discontent with her life. She missed being in the office, spending times with her colleagues and having lunch with her husband.” Watanuki’s voice was matter-of-fact but somehow chilling. “Instead she was left alone, cut off from the life she had once knew. And she saw less and less of her husband. In time she began to resent him as the source 0f her unhappiness.”

“I told her the price for her wish.” Watanuki met Doumeki’s gaze for a moment then his eyes lowered to his arm. “She didn’t like my answer.”

Doumeki suddenly realized that he wasn’t going to get the full details. Watanuki would often tell him about the customers who came to the store. But when it came to the prices that he had facilitated, he would often fall silent.

As he expected, Watanuki didn’t elaborate any further. Instead he changed the subject. “I made some soba yesterday. You’ll have to make do with that if you’re hungry.”

Doumeki’s mouth tightened. He didn’t like the deflection. He knew that Watanuki hid many of the details from him, from all of them, in order to shield them. Watanuki seemed to take the harm he suffered as part of his role as the shop’s owner. He didn’t seek to take harm on himself as he once had but when it was unavoidable side effect, he accepted it.

He didn’t see that Doumeki wanted know it all, if only to make himself an outlet for Watanuki’s need to talk.

~x~X~x~

Love ain't fair
So there you are
My love

~x~X~x~

He was never certain if Watanuki knew what he was doing, why he regularly came to the shop. Sometimes when Doumeki caught Watanuki looking at him, he thought Watanuki might. And then there were the times when he was certain that Watanuki was totally oblivious.

Watanuki had determined to wait, as long as it took. And Doumeki could only wait with him, the egg he took everywhere tucked in a pocket. He was used to waiting – patience was something he had learnt early in life – but Doumeki found this one of the hardest waits in his life/ that he didn’t just want to wait.

Watanuki didn't have the power Yuuko did but he still granted the wishes of customers that came to the shop. And paid his own price. Each wish came with its own cost. And Doumeki was aware of what it was doing to Watanuki. He could see it even if Watanuki didn’t talk about it.

Doumeki didn't have any power. He couldn't take Watanuki's place and Watanuki wouldn't have let him if he tried.

All he could do was watch as Watanuki bore his self-imposed price.

~x~X~x~

Your heart's a mess
You won't admit to it

~x~X~x~

Watanuki sat on the veranda, staring sightlessly at the ribbon of smoke that lifted into the air. He didn't look at Doumeki as he sat down beside him.

Doumeki looked him over carefully, searching for damage. The bandage on his forearm from the week before was still there but he couldn't see any more injuries. But from the way Watanuki was sitting, slumped against the wall, something was wrong.

They both sat there. Watanuki staring out into the yard and Doumeki sitting next to him, silently waiting for him to say something.

As the silence stretched out, Doumeki realized that Watanuki wasn't going to tell him what had happened. Frustrated, he started to get up.

Watanuki's hand closed on his sleeve.

~x~X~x~

It makes no sense
But I'm desperate to connect
And you, you can’t live like this

~x~X~x~

Doumeki sat on the edge of the bed. Watanuki was curled up behind him, asleep, his back touching Doumeki's.

Doumeki stared down at his face. It hadn't changed. After he had taken over the shop he hadn't aged at all. Watanuki had been frozen in adolescence while Doumeki had continued maturing. There were visible differences already and they would only continue as time passed.

He pulled the blankets up over Watanuki's bare shoulder. But no matter what changes there were, he would be here.

Doumeki’s gaze fell on their discarded clothes on the floor. He had thought this was what he wanted. But even now, there was still distance between them. Watanuki had shared his body by not his heart. Even as his body had clung onto Doumeki, he had held back.

And Doumeki knew as long as Watanuki held the shop, there would be a gap between them that he couldn’t breech.

~x~X~x~

Love ain't safe
You won't get hurt if you stay chaste
So you can wait
But I don't wanna waste my love

~x~X~x~

It was different after that.

Watanuki never turned him away. And while he tended to be listless, he always roused himself when Doumeki was there. The consideration was there even if the love Doumeki wanted wasn't.

Watanuki was waiting for Yuuko.

But Doumeki wasn't prepared to wait. Each day was another day he had with Watanuki. And he was doing everything he could to ensure that more would follow.

~x~X~x~

1) A tubular container, often made of bamboo and filled with water, to hold ash and waste. This thing (under the blue star):

2) I’m aware there has been some question about the translation of this. Since I can’t get my hands on the raw, I can’t be certain. But logically if Doumeki’s talking about his grandfather’s things, then he would be likely talking about Japanese folklore. So that’s what I’m going with XD
EDIT: It's definitely 'enthnology' (thanks imbrii!). But since folklore can come under that, I'm going to leave it XD Ehehehe.

~x~X~x~

Okay. That was a bit depressing. And possibly not quite what you wanted. But I've written a flip side piece which will hopefully you'll enjoy so much, you'll ignore how I fudged my way through your request. Ehehehe, it always works.

~x~X~x~

Escaping the Box

Wed, 30 Sep 2009 11:26:24 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Escaping the Box
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG
Length: Medium Oneshot
Comment: AU (Glass, Light & Water). Science-Fiction.
Summary: Watanuki sees his chance and seizes it.

AN: Made it! XD A Birthday fic for alexiel_neesan. You requested something science fiction with starships. I'm a bit rusty on that account but I've done my best to put together something that I hope will satisfy :) Happy Birthday, my dear! And enjoy! :D

~x~X~x~

They Pigeon Hole you,
Squeeze you small, compact
Into a box they made
And you, their lab rat.

~x~X~x~

Escaping the Box

The station was more like a gallery than an interstellar hub. Priceless pieces of art adorned the vast viewing lounges: the incomparably beautiful Phoenix, each feather hand-carved from coloured glass; Hikaru, the perfectly formed ceramic that had motes of dancing light between the paper-thin layered walls. And Ishikawa's Neptune, the suspended water ever moving, morphing into one form and then another. An artwork where everyone could see what they wanted to and every interpretation was correct.

They were the cultural treasures of the planet and they had been installed in the station to be shared with citizens and visitors alike. It was a gesture that exemplified the moral code that Kiyoraka’s citizens valued. Consideration for others. Harmony.

Watanuki turned away, setting his back to the glittering display pieces. It made harmony seem like such a beautiful thing, something that was to be sought after. But harmony only came at a cost. On Kiyoraka at least.

The thought had sent an uneasy twinge through him and Watanuki let his mind go blank. He watched the planet below through the transparent skin of the viewing platform. The swirls of white smearing the marbling of blue and green were visible from where he sat but most people chose walk out on to the invisible platform and stare down at the plant slowly turning below their feet.

There were a number of tourists. The travelling masses that poured from the cruising vessels which shunted the idle affluent from one exotic locale to the next. Some spacers, alone and in small groups, wondered among them, enjoying their leave.

But there were also some citizens from the planet below. They were easy to tell apart from the tourists. The citizens of Kiyoraka were like works of art themselves, impeccably attired in the traditional clothing that was proudly worn on the planet. Every move was slow and graceful, awe at the sight of their world expressed in quiet murmurs. In comparison the tourists were flashy, almost garish in their bright clashing colours, and the spacers dull and rough in their sombre shades. They captured images of Kiyoraka’s citizens as much as the planet itself. And the citizens simply smiled shy warm smiles and acceded gracefully to their demands.

Calmly. With dignity.

The chair on the opposite side of his table scrapped, dragged back over tile. Watanuki blinked, jolted out of his thoughts. A man wearing the simple black guest clothes provided by the station was settling into the chair. He'd arrived.

Watanuki stared at the other man across the table. He didn't look like much: tall, with short black hair and a bored expression. If it hadn't been for the curiously light colour of his eyes he would have looked like any other citizen. But just from the way he sat - a casual semi-sprawl in the rigid chair - said that he wasn't an inhabitant of Kiyoraka. He wasn't sitting ramrod straight like every good citizen did. Like Watanuki was now.

It irritated Watanuki for some reason. Not just to see such sloppy posture. It was the freedom the other man had being able to do what he wanted. His irritation increased, bordering on anger-

Pain filled his head. A dull headache that made it hard to think. Watanuki tried to ignore it. At least he didn't have implant with its mood stabilizing chemicals being injected into his bloodstream. Watanuki had the good fortune to experience severe side effects that made it impossible to function with constant injections. He only had the remnants of the emotional therapy he'd 'volunteered' for when he returned in system.

Strong negative emotions are an aberration, Watanuki. The mood therapist's voice echoed in his head. The outer worlds are chaotic and violent because of this.

She had had smiled, a professional smile that a modulated warmth, calculated to be reassuring but not too personal. "You need to regain the natural harmony you once had." She held out her hand. "I can help you with that, Kimihiro."

He'd had no choice about whether he accepted that hand. It was decided that he had needed their help.

Help. It was the equivalent of an emotional lobotomy. Guided onto the right path of how he should think and feel. He couldn't imagine how an actual lobotomy could be worse. But such procedures were clumsy butchery. New science was much more civilized.

Civilized.

He fisted a hand in his lap, deliberately cutting nails into his palm. It helped him concentrate on here and now.

The man was frowning at him across the table. But if he had noticed Watanuki’s distress he didn't mention it. "You're the one who contacted Makeru about passage out-system?"

Watanuki's heart sped up a little, a spurt of fear. "A temporary employment," he corrected. Citizens couldn't travel out-system unless they had a certificate of employment. A valid contract. "But if I have to make a bond, I have several thousand I can pay." He traced a symbol on the table, upping it by 10,000. Praying that the spacer wasn't the type to refuse bribes.

The other man's eyes lifted from Watanuki's hand to his face. He was silent for a moment, studying Watanuki with slightly narrowed eyes. "What can you do?"

Watanuki felt relief fill him. But it didn't make him relax. It wasn't common for ships to take on citizens from Kiyoraka. His first journey out bound had been on a ship from the Kiyoraka fleet. He'd never been able secure boarding on an unallianced ship.

"Accounting." Communications was deemed too excitable for someone of his temperament. "I served Jingi in the Logistics Division." Just recalling the voyage made his headache worse.

Something flickered in the other man's eyes. "Is there anything else you can do?"

It wasn't enough. Watanuki felt a sense of panic as he saw his last opportunity slipping through his fingers. He scrambled for things he could do. "Cleaning." He was getting desperate. "Cooking-"

Definite interest sparked in the spacer's eyes. "How well can you cook?"

Watanuki blinked, shocked that something so simple had gotten the man’s attention. "Reasonably well." He hadn't had anyone else trying his cooking so he couldn't be entirely sure.

The look the spacer gave him, suggested he knew what he was thinking. "We've been without a chef since the last port of call." An annoyed expression crossed his face. "If you can cook well, you're hired." He paused as if something had just occurred to him. "I'm Doumeki."

Watanuki bowed his head slightly, hope and nervousness vying with the growing headache. "I'm Watanuki. It’s a pleasure to meet you."

~x~X~x~

Since Doumeki wanted to try his cooking, Watanuki found he had no choice except to take the spacer back to his quarters. He'd accepted the posting on-station to get close to the flow of tourist and spacers on cargo runs. It had meant extended therapy to combat the excitement but it had been worth it for the chance. Even if there was increased surveillance.

He paused outside his door, trying not to think about how his actions would be construed by the helpful station surveillance review board.

The behaviour adviser smiled. "The choice of partners is, of course, a personal choice. And we do not discriminate against a citizen's choices." Warm eyes gazed at him across the table. "But we all must consider our duties as citizens. A good neighbour considers the feelings of those around him and any discomfort they might feel." A smile. "And an upstanding citizen like yourself should consider our future gene pool. You are important in our future."

His hands fisted. What about his discomfort? The headache pulsed at the selfish thought but he ignored it, too angry to let it go. He’d been gently urged on numerous occasions after that until he’d donated his genetic material just to get some peace.

Watanuki placed a hand on the key plate, barely resisting the impulse to slap it down, waiting a split-second for it to scan his hand. As he pulled his hand away, he caught Doumeki staring at the discrete symbol on the door. The two crossed swords that signalled his sexual orientation.

He'd forgotten about it. Watanuki was so used to it that he hadn't realized that this might be the last mark against him. He was tolerated here within certain limits but it might not be the same with this man. "I'm sorry if it bothers you." He kept his eyes lowered, trying to fight against the angry sliver at having to apologise for what he was, for the discomfort he caused others. The pain increased at the angry thought.

"Why would it?"

The question cut through Watanuki’s growing headache. He looked up, shocked.

The other man met his gaze squarely. "I don't criticize what lives people choose." His voice was bland but somehow it felt like there was anger behind the words.

Watanuki looked away and opened the door, feeling suddenly and inexplicitly grateful. It made him feel wretched that so little meant so much to him. It was somewhat of a blow. He thought he'd dealt with it better.

The door swung open and lights flickered to life. Watanuki showed the spacer in, not looking at him, and lead him down the corridor to the kitchen.

Doumeki's eyes flicked out towards the open-plan lounge room but his attention soon turned to the kitchen and it's painstakingly neat accoutrements. Most people chose to use an automatic integrated system, but Watanuki used the old traditional implements. It didn't seem like cooking when all you did was press buttons and turn dials.

"What would you like me to prepare?" Watanuki opened up one of the cupboards to have something to do. It had been a long time since he had invited anyone back to his living quarters. And then it had been to his bedroom not his kitchen. It somehow seemed more invasive now, having a stranger in the place where he spent most of his spare time.

Doumeki's pale eyes fixed on him. "Whatever you like." He leaned his long frame against the bench, settling in to watch.

Watanuki stared at him for a moment. It was a test. What he chose would tell the spacer more about himself than he liked to divulge. But he didn’t have much choice. His lips thinned in determination as he decided. A simple dish but something that showed that he was more than just an eccentric dabbler.

He took the rack of spices out from the cupboard then opened the fridge and retrieved the cut of beef that had been sent up from the planet and some fresh vegetables he'd bought from the conservatory. He'd been saving them for his break at the end of the week but there wouldn't be one if he managed this right.

Doumeki simply watched as he cut up ingredients and turned on the heat of the ceramic stove top. The spacer's face was expressionless, only his eyes moving to follow Watanuki's progress. He didn't show surprise at anything Watanuki did and his close scrutiny was unnerving.

Already battling the onslaught of a headache, Watanuki found the tension of the situation an added difficulty. He found himself on the verge of making stupid mistakes: almost forgetting to add the cloves and nearly over-cooking the thin strips of beef. Finally he simply ignored the other man, pouring all his attention into the meal he was preparing. It was the most important thing.

He made a few finishing touches to make the dish presentable then set the bowl onto the bench, placing a knife and fork down on a cloth napkin.

The spacer looked at the bowl for a moment then looked up at him. "Do you have any beer?"

"I'm not allowed to drink." He regretted the choice of words as Doumeki's pale eyes speared him again. But he refused to say anything more even under that piercing stare.

Doumeki frowned and slowly picked up the knife and fork.

Watanuki set himself to tidying up. It was better than watching that expressionless face and trying to work out what the spacer was thinking. But washing and setting everything back into its proper place only took so long. He ended up watching all the same, with nothing else to do.

The headache was worse but without any anger or other negative emotions it would slowly fade. It was a reminder, a rebuke to correct his disability.

The pain increased a fraction. Watanuki briefly thought of taking something but dismissed the idea. He only had a limited supply and he might need something later. This wasn't the worst he'd experienced by far. He'd found they had a pattern to them. If he managed to keep calm for another hour, then he'd be alright.

The fork scraped the bowl. A glance showed that Doumeki was on his last mouthful. The spacer chewed it slowly, setting the eating utensils aside. "It's good." It was said through the food and Watanuki's relief was laced through with irritation at the lack of manners. "You're hired."

Disbelief joined the relief. It couldn’t be that easy. "But doesn't your captain have to approve?"

The spacer smiled, a slow movement that could only be described as a smirk. "I am the captain."

Watanuki stared at him. What sort of captain came to interview a potential crew member on his own? But he pushed the incredulous thought aside as the Doumeki - the captain - stood.

"When can't you be ready?" All traces of the smirk had disappeared to be replaced by the same blank expression he had worn before. "Makeru departs at 24.00, station time. We can deal with your contract now and you can send your belongings to the ship. A member of crew will meet you at the berth, 23.00 at the latest."

He couldn't wait that long. "I can go with you now."

The captain stared at him. "You're already packed?"

Not everything. He hadn't really believed that this would work. "I can be in a few minutes."

Doumeki stared at him hard. The frown returned momentary then disappeared. "We'll formalize the contract when you're done." Even as he spoke, he was pulling out a small device. His personal system.

Watanuki took that as a dismissal and headed off to his bedroom.

~x~X~x~

It didn't take long. The slightly battered wheeled trunk had been packed for months. All he had to do was collect the few personal possessions that he had been using day to day. His razor, a gift from his first partner. His personal system. The one that no one knew he had and wasn't linked to the network. The few personal effects he had from his parents.

He hesitated as his gaze fell on the dresser. But he fell to his knees and reached a hand under the piece of furniture to retrieve the small book he'd wedged into the small depression between base and leg. As painful a burden as it was, he couldn't leave it. He tucked it into one of the inner compartments of his hand luggage.

He stared at the small pile of luggage. It was everything he’d need to function, everything that had any meaning. All that he was prepared to take with him. It seemed like a pitiful amount but there was nothing else he wanted to take.

As the fact that he was finally leaving kicked in, so did the conditioning. Doubts and unease flooded him. He didn't want to leave. Here was the place where he belonged-

"The outer planets are misguided. They mistake freedom for the very things that keep them enslaved to their desires." A sad look flittered across her pale face. "Kimihiro, you have seen this for yourself. You mustn't be swayed by these foreign blandishments. Let me help you back to the right path. Back to us." She leaned forward, her face even more beautiful at close range. Kind and compassionate. Like a mother-

Watanuki ripped his attention away from the memory, anger flaring to life. He didn't have to listen to this anymore. He didn't have to obey these thoughts that weren’t his own. He'd seen the truth with his own eyes and he was never going back to what he'd once been.

Pain hammered through his head as he resisted the conditioning. He wasn't going to give in. Not this time. The window was closing and he had to fly through it before it disappeared entirely.

"Kimihiro. Look at me." Her eyes were bright as her hands held his face still-

Steel hands that were slowly tightening on his head, sending pain through his entire face. It felt like his brain was too large for his head. And getting larger

He slumped against the wall, breathing shallowly and half-sobbing at the pain. But he couldn't wait the time it would take for the symptoms to subside. Time for the port authorities to figure out what was going on.

Watanuki stumbled to his luggage, tearing open his carry bag. The small plastic bottle was flung out at the force, rolling across the floor. Watanuki crawled after it, the headache increasing as if it knew what he was trying to do.

He could hardly see the bottle but he could feel it. He wrenched off the lid and poured the dull little capsules into a shaking hand, a glistening stream. Deadly little helpers.

Watanuki grit his teeth and slammed a handful of pills into his mouth.

He wasn't coming back this time.

~x~X~x~

Sealing the contract had only taken a matter of minutes. By the time he came out of his room, hand luggage slung over his shoulder and the wheeled chest rolling behind him, Doumeki had already drawn up the agreement.

Somewhat light-headed from the dose he'd just taken, Watanuki had read through it slowly. It had been simple enough. Agreement to work as Makeru's chef until they reached its home port of Mitasu. At that point he could sign a new contract or go on his way. There was no mention of a bond, only a clause about passage payment. A fraction of his pay would be deducted for any voyage he undertook back in-system. It was a generous agreement. And how generous was revealed when he scrolled down to see the rate of pay he was going to receive. It was almost double what he was being paid now.

Watanuki affixed his electronic seal and added a hand-scan for good measure. And as simply as that, he was now a member of Makeru’s crew.

All he had to do was make it through port customs.

With the contract submitted, it had to go through a number of channels for verification and resubmission. But it took time. And while he was a known on the station, Watanuki had been keeping low for the last year. There had been no incidents, no unsettling outbursts that could attest to any instability or sedition. He could only hope that his file had been downgraded, loosing the flag that might stop him within steps of freedom.

The prospect had him tense the entire time they navigated the lifts and corridors to the customs gates. Watanuki could feel the headache building behind the blocking fog of the pills. If he hadn't taken anything, the metal triggers to safeguard his behaviour would have had him passed out on the floor.

From the looks he caught Doumeki giving him, it was obvious that the spacer was aware there was some difficulty. But to his credit, he didn't make any comments.

As it was Watanuki was in luck. Ora was on duty at customs gate. Like him she had transferred to the station when Jingi had returned from its long voyage. But unlike Watanuki she had been much better at hiding her reactions to what had happened. As far at the port authorities were concerned she was still an exemplary citizen.

Ora looked up and spotted them. She leaned over to say something to the man who sat at the teller next to her, speaking a few words. He nodded and a small holographic replica of Phoenix lit up on her counter, signalling them to approach her desk.

She smiled as they stopped in front of her. "Captain Doumeki. Citizen Watanuki." A few fast movements of her long graceful fingers had a display flickering to life in front of her. "We've received your contract. A year voyage, round trip to Vega and back."

No contract time or return trip had been entered. And they certainly weren't heading for Vega.

But Doumeki only nodded.

Ora made a few more motions with her fingers, flipping through the contract. She paused for a moment then disengaged the screen entirely. But not before a small flashing symbol had appeared. A security flag.

Her eyes slid sideways to the man sitting next to her but he was bent over his own screen. "Your contract is accepted and logged." Her eyes slid to Watanuki, her smile warming. "You are both free to board. Though Citizen Watanuki will have to process his bags."

Watanuki's grip on his hand luggage tightened, heart suddenly pounding a rapid muffled tattoo in his ears as the drugs did strange things to his reactions. The book. It would show up right away. He hadn't even thought of it-

The hand luggage was lifted from his shoulder. Watanuki was so startled, his grip loosened, allowing Doumeki to take the bag entirely. "His bag." Doumeki slung the strap of hand language onto his shoulder.

"Of course." Ora's eyes slid briefly sideways again, checking on her colleague. "Your luggage is exempt from inspection under the Accord." Her eyes turned to Watanuki. "If you would just place your luggage under the scanner, Citizen Watanuki."

Watanuki pulled it up close to the desk. A few seconds and it was over. Ora peered at her screen for a moment and then looked up with a smile. "Thank you for your cooperation." Her fingers moved again. "I hope you enjoyed your stay on Kiyokara, Captain Doumeki."

"I did, thank you." Doumeki bowed his head politely.

Orica bowed back, smile widening. "I hope your voyage is safe and successful." She opened the gates, leading to the docking area. She gave Watanuki a warm smile, a nearly imperceptible wink as he passed. "Enjoy your passage, Citizen Watanuki."

~x~X~x~

"Captain!" A woman waved at them from the end of the corridor anchored to Makeru's hull. Doumeki lifted a hand in acknowledgement but didn't increase his pace. He still had Watanuki's hand luggage on his shoulder.

Watanuki glanced at him sideways, still not sure why the captain had covered for him. Aside from the fact he was protecting his newest crew member. But a simple chef wasn’t worth the risking refusal of docking for suspicion of criminal activities. In Kiyoraka space, abetting defection was considered such.

Ora was risking more than rehabilitation for letting him off-station, as well. But she was capable of protecting herself. She had Kazuhiko to help her if she had to leave suddenly.

Watanuki only hoped that Makeru’s captain knew what he was doing.

They reached the end of the corridor and the captain walked through the open hatch, stopping just inside as the other spacer pulled it shut behind them with an enthusiastic slam. The woman looked over him curiously as she let go of the handles, offering him a friendly smile. She was pale skinned, her thick black hair held back from her face with a number of brightly coloured clips. But she had green eyes, Watanuki saw with some shock. He hadn't seen anything quite like it before. Most of the people on Kiyoraka had dark eyes.

"Kunogi. This is Watanuki. He'll be our new chef." Doumeki finally slid the bag from shoulder and handed it back to Watanuki. "See him to his quarters."

Watanuki took it, slightly clumsy from the drugs, feeling better to have it in his hands again. He had been beginning to wonder if he was going to get it back.

"Of course, captain!" Kunogi turned to him, beaming. "A chef? It's been a long time since we had someone who could cook really good meals."

"I'm not really a chef." Watanuki felt a bit off-put by her manner. She was so friendly. Not just the warm politeness that courtesy dictated but real warmth. She didn't even know him and she was smiling at him like that-

It made him uneasy.

He glanced at Doumeki but the captain was already walking away, disappearing down a corridor in the opposite direction.

"If the captain says you're chef then you are." Kunogi opened another hatch and started down the corridor behind it, leaving him no choice but to follow. "You must be really good. It takes a lot to impress the captain." She smiled at him over her shoulder. "I can't wait until dinner!"

Dinner. The thought fell into his mind like a stone falling into a fogged pond. Watanuki didn't think that he cook anything, his thoughts were so muddled. He was beginning to wonder if he had taken too many pills.

"We've been taking turns to cook." Himawari continued. Her boots echoed as they tramped the grated metal walkway. There were small powerful down lights every few steps, lighting up the walkways and walls. Someone had painted large colourful murals on the walls, breaking up the dull grey metal. Watanuki eyed the strange symbols and anamorphic shapes, wondering dully who had painted it.

"But it's pretty much just pressing buttons. None of use can really cook so we've been having the same meals over and over." She giggled as they passed several doors, each painted over with large symbols. Living quarters to judge by the displays on the walls next to them. "The captain swore he'd find a cook at the next port, no matter who it was." She gave him a sidelong glance. "But I think he likes you."

Before he could ask what she meant by that, Kunogi turned off the main walkway to stop in front of an unpainted door. "These will be your quarters. It's probably a bit small after what you're used to but it's pretty good compared to some ships." She touched the hand plate, the door swinging open.

It looked fine to him. There was a bed and all the usual furnishings. He'd never needed the space his former quarters afforded him.

A hand on his arm made him jump.

Kunogi was giving him a concerned look. "Are you alright, Watanuki? You don't look well."

Watanuki slid out from under her hand, uncomfortable at the contact. "I just need some rest."

She didn't look entirely convinced but her frown lightened. "You won't have to do anything until tomorrow night. Kohane and Elizabeth are already rostered for breakfast and lunch and they can manage. So you should be able get some rest and settle in."

Dinner tomorrow. He might be able to manage that.

“You can key the room to your hand.” She pointed to a touch panel just inside the door. “Just lock the door and no one will bother you.” Kunogi smiled again. "If you have any problems just call me. The communications are all voice activated." She started back to the door. "I'll leave you to get some rest." Before he could reply she had ducked out into the corridor, the door closing silently behind her.

For a moment Watanuki just stared after her. At the shut door. Slowly he placed his hand on the plate, entering his print and locking it. Then he set his luggage down and very carefully walked over to the bed and fell back onto it. For a long time he just stared up at the ceiling, feeling the blank heaviness that filled his mind. There was pain and nausea but it was dulled, distant like it was happening to someone else. But he’d feel it tomorrow when the pills’ effects ran out.

He might have fallen asleep or it might have actually been that long, but he slowly became aware that several hours had passed.

A thrumming vibration had started. Barely discernable at first then powering up into a steady hum. Makeru's engines. They were leaving Kiyoraka. He was leaving.

No one had come to stop him. He had slipped out though the gate and left the never-ending surveillance. He was a part of Makeru's crew now. He had finally escaped the reach of the planet.

He finally had a chance to be himself. Whatever that was.

~x~X~x~

I doubt it will be that easy >.< *sheepish* I might have gotten a bit carried away with this one. Your fault. You've sparked an entire AU, you know. Watanuki is going to have to deal with a lot of problems. His mind is a real mess.

Anyway, I hope it was what you wanted. There was a space ship in there. Sort off >.> It was a bit dark but I didn't think you'd mind. You're the one who's writing Smog and War after all XD So Happy Birthday! I hope that you've had a wonderful day and an even better year ahead :)

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile: Epilogue: LXIX

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 15:58:07 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Midnight Smile: Epilogue: LXIX
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG
Warning: Basically a romance :O So no complicated plots, evil villains, nothing but love (@!# and #$^&%!@ :3) Okay, there might be a little bit of plot, a sliver of evil XD
Comment: AU (Midnight Smile). Story in drabble form (yay!)
Summary: Doumeki doesn't care for the performing arts. Until he sees a performance that he will never forget :D

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile:

Epilogue: LXIX

LXIX: Enduring Love

The maple’s once slender trunk had thickened with age, less flexible yet strong. He stared up at its branches, now higher than they had ever been. Reaching for the sky. The moon.

“Shizuka?” Kimihiro had followed him into the garden, tying the sash to his kimono. “Is something wrong?” He was peering near-sightedly at him.

Shizuka took his reaching hand and pulled Kimihiro to his side. The other man’s hair was mussed, unruly silver-streaked black. “No.”

An arm wrapped around Kimihiro’s waist, Shizuka walked back to the house. The place where Kimihiro had been born. The place where they had been united.

Their home.

~x~X~x~

:D *happy* And so we can leave these two, assured that they're okay :) Thus ends Midnight Smile. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it :D

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile: Unfolding Love: LXIII-LXVIII

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 15:41:51 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Midnight Smile: Unfolding Love: LXIII-LXVIII
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: M
Warning: Basically a romance :O So no complicated plots, evil villains, nothing but love (@!# and #$^&%!@ :3) Okay, there might be a little bit of plot, a sliver of evil XD
Comment: AU (Midnight Smile). Story in drabble form (yay!)
Summary: Doumeki doesn't care for the performing arts. Until he sees a performance that he will never forget :D

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile:

Unfolding Love: LXIII-LXVIII

LXIII: First Anniversary

The maple leaves were a bright scarlet. Kimihiro was holding one carefully in his hands. He looked up at Doumeki and his eyes widened. “What-”

Doumeki handed him the box. “It’s been a year.”

“A year?” Kimihiro opened the box and froze when he saw the contents.

“Since you gave me permission.”

Kimihiro looked from the box to him. He carefully set the box aside, eyes still locked with Doumeki’s. He suddenly smiled. “Then why are you waiting?”

Doumeki blinked. Then reached out and crushed Kimihiro to him, feeling the slender body mould to his. He couldn’t breathe but that didn’t matter. Kimihiro did.

LXIV: Intimate Tease

“Shi-” Kimihiro bit down on his hand to stifle the cry.

Doumeki stared up at him, across the pale plane of his chest. He drew his free hand down across Kimihiro’s stomach, lightly tracing down to rest on his hipbone. He watched Kimihiro’s face, fingers slowly tracing small circles.

Kimihiro shivered. His shoulders suddenly lifted from the floor and he reached down-

Doumeki caught his hand. “Say my name or I’ll stop.” He kept his other hand moving slowly, teasing.

Kimihiro glared at him. But it didn’t last long. “Shizuka!” It was a strangled cry.

Doumeki bent down and gave him what he wanted.

LXV: Mutual Accounting

The tray was set on the table with a soft click.

Doumeki looked up from the accounts he’d been reading over. Tea. He reached for a cup.

Kimihiro laid a hand on Doumeki’s shoulder and peered down at the paperwork. “You forgot to carry the three.”

Doumeki took a sip and looked at the lines of numbers. He was right. He crossed it out and started writing in the right number.

Kimihiro squeezed his shoulder and moved to sit on the other side of the table, picking up the other cup of tea. He settled in and started on his own pile of accounts.

LXVI: Sweet Embrace

Light flared outward, an expanding umbrella of dying fire. Percussive bangs filled the air as more fireworks ignited, filling the sky with smoke and colour.

Kimihiro watched the explosions, smiling with unabashed delight. Even as the fireworks burst across the sky, they lit his face, casting colour onto his black hair. He was wearing one of his favourite kimono, the one Doumeki had given him in the garden.

Doumeki slid an arm around his waist, pulling him close until Kimihiro’s head rested on his shoulder. Kimihiro’s hand reached into his lap to grasp his hand.

They sat that way together, until the fireworks died.

LXVII: Deceiving Words

The cicadas were singing. A high ringing noise that filled the air, creating a thick wall of sound. Doumeki hadn’t even noticed it before but now they were still, the insects were glaringly loud.

“Sometimes I don’t know why I picked you.” Kimihiro sounded irritable.

Doumeki pulled him closer, tucking his chin over Kimihiro’s shoulder. They were both hot and sweaty but it felt good. “You know quality when you see it.”

“Hmph.” Kimihiro scrunched down slightly, cranky but unable to find a proper comeback.

For a long time there was only the cicadas’ singing. And the feel of Kimihiro’s fingers entwined with his.

LXVIII: Midnight Smile

The house was empty when Doumeki arrived home. He slid off his shoes and set down the papers he held onto the small hallway table. It was quiet as Doumeki made his way to the bathhouse. He looked towards the teahouse as he crossed the garden. Kimihiro was probably still working-

The door slid open before Doumeki could reach for it. Kimihiro stood in the doorway, wearing a dark blue kimono that contrasted with his pale skin. His smile widened as Doumeki stared at him. “I thought we’d share the bath.” He started inside, casting a smile over his shoulder.

Doumeki hurried after him.

~x~X~x~

:3 Was Doumeki who got Watanuki or Watanuki who got Doumeki? XD

~x~X~x~

On to Epilogue

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile: Close Accommodation: LV-LXII

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 15:36:41 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Midnight Smile: Close Accommodation: LV-LXII
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: M
Warning: Basically a romance :O So no complicated plots, evil villains, nothing but love (@!# and #$^&%!@ :3) Okay, there might be a little bit of plot, a sliver of evil XD
Comment: AU (Midnight Smile). Story in drabble form (yay!)
Summary: Doumeki doesn't care for the performing arts. Until he sees a performance that he will never forget :D

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile:

Close Accommodation: LV-LXII

LV: Homecoming

“Doumeki-san.” The geisha bowed as she saw him, painted lips curving up in a genuine smile, bright red in her white face.

“Kunogi-san.” Doumeki bowed back. He had seen the rickshaw outside and wasn’t surprised to see her.

“Watanuki-san is still in the kitchen.” Her smile widened, her green eyes twinkling mischievously. “One of the guests was hungry.”

Which meant Kimihiro was still cleaning up. Even though he owned the teahouse, he still clung to the tasks he had done when it had belonged to his mother.

“He has the bath ready,” Kunogi-san continued.

A bath. Right now it was more appealing than food.

LVI: Liquid Warmth

Doumeki slid into the hot water with a soundless sigh. It had been a long day. Some of the orders for the latest shipment had been late and it had been a race to fill them.

His eyes slid shut. He was tired. But he still wanted Kimihiro-

The door to the bathhouse slid open followed by quiet footsteps. There was the sound of cloth hitting the floor and then Kimihiro was slipping into the water behind him, arms wrapping around Doumeki’s chest. “You’re too tense.”

Doumeki turned his head and reached back to pull Kimihiro’s head closer, his exhaustion suddenly forgotten. “Not anymore.”

LVII: Quick Revival

The water was warm around his legs but Kimihiro was warmer. His forearms were burning where they rested against Doumeki’s thighs, sharp contrast to the cool air. But it was nothing to Kimihiro’s mouth.

Kimihiro bit down slightly and Doumeki shuddered. His hand tightened in Kimihiro’s hair, stopping him, and he took a grip on his arm. Doumeki pulled him up until they were face to face.

Kimihiro’s hair was plastered to his face, small beads of water standing on his skin. His lips were bright in his pale face. “I thought you were tired.”

Doumeki pulled him close, figuring that was answer enough.

LVIII: New Avenues

“This one. The cranes and the turtle pattern.” Kunogi-san sounded delighted. “They’ll be popular.”

Doumeki added them to the list of fabrics.

“Oh! And this one!” The geisha pulled another bolt from the pile. “It’s so cute!”

Kimihiro studied the rich cream fabric with its pale cherry blossoms. “Kohane-chan is about to debut isn’t she?”

Doumeki recognized the name. The little maiko had come to the teahouse several times with Kunogi-san. Watanuki had become fond of her.

Kunogi-san beamed. “It would be perfect!”

Kimihiro looked at Doumeki.

He nodded.

Kimihiro set the bolt aside and flashed him a smile.

Doumeki’s heart skipped a beat.

LIX: New Accommodation

“I’m thinking of moving in.”

Kimihiro’s hands slowed, suddenly scrubbing with less force.

Doumeki watched him place the plate in the drying rack and reach for another. He was thinking. But it was hard to tell whether he was pleased or not. “What do you think?”

Kimihiro glanced at him over his shoulder. “The teahouse gets noisy sometimes.”

“You can’t hear it from the house.” The garden separated the two buildings.

Kimihiro frowned and reached for another plate. “What about your customers?”

Doumeki picked a wet plate and started drying it. “What about them?”

Kimihiro’s frown deepened. But he gave Doumeki the next plate.

LX: Finding Room

The wind chime tinkled, swaying in the breeze.

Doumeki surveyed the large room. The sliding doors were open, providing a d wide view of the garden. Light spilled in from the veranda, bleaching the tatami beneath their feet. Personal belongings were carefully placed through the room. His and Kimihiro’s.

“This isn’t your room.” It was nothing like the small neat room that Kimihiro slept in.

Kimihiro shook his head. “Mine’s too small for two people.” He turned to Doumeki, eyes suddenly uncertain. “Is it big enough?”

Doumeki slid an arm around his waist. “It’s fine.” He wouldn’t have cared if it was a closet.

LXI: Domestic Discord

“What is this?!” The words were a furious hiss.

Doumeki cracked open his eyes a slit and shut them again. It was too early for this.

Kimihiro apparently disagreed. There was rustle of cloth and the empty bottle was thrust ungently into Doumeki’s side. “You drank it didn’t you?!”

Doumeki said nothing. The bottle said it all.

Kimihiro made a disgusted noise. “Next time you want a drink, ask. Don’t just raid the stores!” With another jab of the bottle, Kimihiro rose and stalked from the room.

Doumeki slowly sat up, wincing as the door violently slid shut. This he still wasn’t used to.

LXII: Reluctant Compromises

“You forgot your lunch.” Watanuki set the box on his desk with a thump. He saw Doumeki staring and scowled. “What?”

He was wearing a suit. The clothes didn’t look right. They were loose, a little long in the sleeves and legs. And they were familiar- “Are they mine?”

Watanuki glared at him. “I didn’t have anything else to wear here.”

Here. It was the first time Kimihiro had come to the factory.

“-but if you’re going to forget lunch, I’ll have to buy some more appropriate clothes-”

Doumeki grabbed his wrist before he could leave. “Don’t.” He liked Kimihiro the way he was.

~x~X~x~

Don’t we all? XD

On to Unfolding Love

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile: New Beginnings: LII-LIV

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 15:31:20 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Midnight Smile: New Beginnings: LII-LIV
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG
Warning: Basically a romance :O So no complicated plots, evil villains, nothing but love (@!# and #$^&%!@ :3) Okay, there might be a little bit of plot, a sliver of evil XD
Comment: AU (Midnight Smile). Story in drabble form (yay!)
Summary: Doumeki doesn't care for the performing arts. Until he sees a performance that he will never forget :D

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile:

New Beginnings: LII-LIV

LII: New Opportunities

“So you’re branching out into embroidery.” Nagano accepted the sake cup the geisha offered and took a sip. “Isn’t that risky? Moving from mass-production to custom work?”

“It’s only for specialty orders. I’ve already employed several skilled embroiders.” Doumeki held out his cup for a refill.

Kujaku smiled and poured more sake into the small vessel, her pale wrist showing below her sleeve.

“And your clientele?” Nagano was curious.

Doumeki nodded to Kujaku in thanks. “I have contacts at the theatres.”

Nagano looked at Kujaku. “So I’ve heard.” He took another sip. “There’s talk of how you’ve become a regular in the entertaining quarter.”

LIII: Making Advances

Nagano glanced at Doumeki over the rim of his cup. “I’m pleased to see you’ve come to appreciate the arts.” His voice was dry.

Kujaku lifted a hand, hiding a smile.

Doumeki merely nodded. If he hadn’t gone to theatre that night, he never would have met Kimihiro.

Nagano was amused. But he didn’t say anymore on the subject. “If you can keep up the rate of current supply, then you have my support.” He reached for some edamame. “Send over some finished garments and I’ll display them in the shop.”

Doumeki nodded, feeling a sense of satisfaction. A foothold was all he needed.

LIV: Welcome Reassurances

“Doumeki-san.”

The soft voice stopped Doumeki as he was about to leave. Kujaku took a step closer, a hand still on the sliding door.

“I heard about Matsuda-san.” Her eyes lowered as she spoke, her voice low. “You might like to know that he has formally become the patron of a kagema (1) in the river quarter.”

Doumeki studied her pale face, egg-shell white. “Did Nagano ask you to tell me?”

Her eyes lifted. “No.”

Kujaku suddenly bowed, opening the door to let him out. “I would like to see your collection when it’s ready.” She smiled. “I need several kimonos for the new season."

~x~X~x~

1) Kagema (陰間) - male prostitutes who catered mainly to male clients. Some were apprentice kabuki actors who were not yet allowed on stage.

~x~X~x~

On to Close Accommodation

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile: Lingering Grief: XLVI-LI

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 15:15:28 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Midnight Smile: Lingering Grief: XLVI-LI
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG
Warning: Basically a romance :O So no complicated plots, evil villains, nothing but love (@!# and #$^&%!@ :3) Okay, there might be a little bit of plot, a sliver of evil XD
Comment: AU (Midnight Smile). Story in drabble form (yay!)
Summary: Doumeki doesn't care for the performing arts. Until he sees a performance that he will never forget :D

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile:

Lingering Grief: XLVI-LI

XLVI: Forlorn Legacy

Breakfast was subdued. Kimihiro was silent and Doumeki ate quietly, aware of the empty space at the head of the table where Yuuko had once sat. The pile cushions were still there, their iridescent embroidery glistening in the subdued light.

“She left me the teahouse.” The words were emotionless.

Doumeki looked up to see Kimihiro staring at the pillows. He slowly set down his glass. “She wanted you taken care of when she was gone.”

Kimihiro was silent. He looked at Doumeki for a long moment. Finally his mouth lifted in a fleeting smile. “She did.” He picked up his chopsticks and started eating.

XLVII: Finding Assurance

There were no customers at the teahouse and Kimihiro didn’t perform at the theatre. He had taken on the task of ordering everything in Yuuko’s absence. Looking through the teahouse’s accounts and sorting his mother’s possessions.

Doumeki didn’t go to work, either. He had taken on the task of ensuring that Kimihiro didn’t slip into a depression. He was distracting himself through work but Doumeki knew it wouldn’t last. So he set to reminding Kimihiro about the things worth living for.

It worked, too. It only took a few days for Kimihiro to tell him to go back to work and stop annoying him.

XLVIII: Heartless Harassment

One afternoon Doumeki arrived to find some else had come to visit Kimihiro. Raised voices filled the air. One of them Kimihiro’s.

Doumeki wrenched open the door.

Kimihiro stood with his back against the wall, stiff with fury as he glared at the other man in the room. One pale leg was partially exposed through the open fall of his kimono and one of his hands clutched the garment closed.

Matsuda stood facing him, claw marks trailing down one cheek. His hat lay on the floor.

Anger engulfed Doumeki in a flare of fury. Yuuko hadn’t even been dead a week- This was unforgivable.

XLIX: Potent Threat

Doumeki moved to stand between them, shielding Kimihiro. “Leave.” He met the other man’s eyes in silent threat. “And don’t come back.”

For a moment Matsuda looked like he would refuse.

Part of Doumeki wanted him to. He had tried to force himself on Kimihiro only days after Yuuko had gone. And he had chosen a time when Kimihiro would be alone. It was only chance that Doumeki had come early today.

Doumeki anger flared anew. He wanted nothing more than an excuse to use violence. If he even hesitated-

Matsuda could see it. He snatched up his hat and stalked out the door.

L: Final Decision

“I’m not going to perform anymore.” Kimihiro was attempting to tie his kimono with shaking hands.

Doumeki closed his hands over Kimihiro’s to stop him, then took over. Watanuki’s skin was cold and he flinched when Doumeki brushed his side but he slowly relaxed as Doumeki smoothed the fabric over his chest and started tying the obi.

“You won’t miss it?” It was Kimihiroi’s decision. But Doumeki was somewhat surprised. He knew how much Kimihiro enjoyed his performances. And what it would cost him to give them up.

Kimihiro stared at the door Matsuda had exited. “No.” His hands closed over Doumeki’s. “I won’t.”

LI: Healing Time

The scarlet and black kimono stood on a stand in Yuuko’s room, the long pipe set on a small table before it.

Doumeki would sometimes find Kimihiro sitting in front of them, staring quietly at his mother’s belongings. Sometimes he would go in and sit next to him. Thinking about the woman who had left Kimihiro in his care. And silently renewing the promise he had made.

Gradually Kimihiro sat in the room less and less. And one day, after several months, he carefully folded and wrapped the kimono. He set it in a box with the long pipe and silently packed it away.

~x~X~x

On to New Beginnings

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile: Connected Threads: XLI-XLV

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 15:11:04 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Midnight Smile: Connected Threads: XLI-XLV
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG
Warning: Basically a romance :O So no complicated plots, evil villains, nothing but love (@!# and #$^&%!@ :3) Okay, there might be a little bit of plot, a sliver of evil XD
Comment: AU (Midnight Smile). Story in drabble form (yay!)
Summary: Doumeki doesn't care for the performing arts. Until he sees a performance that he will never forget :D

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile:

Connected Threads: XLI-XLV

XLI: Domestic Bliss

“Good morning, Shizuka.” Ichihara-san’s eyes sparkled as she used the familiar address for the first time. Instead of her customary pipe, she held a small glass in her hand.

“Good morning, Mother.” His reply was respectful.

She smiled over her glass but said nothing more as Watanuki set her breakfast in front of her.

Doumeki watched him closely, concerned that there might be some ill-effects from last night. But except for a few stiff movements, Watanuki seemed alright.

No. Kimihiro.

Kimihiro caught his gaze and smiled. Shy but genuine. The thought of seeing that smile every morning brought an answering one to his lips.

XLII: At Rest

Doumeki had taken to regularly having dinner at the teahouse. Kimihiro seemed to enjoy it when he visited for long periods. Doumeki did too. Kimihiro’s cooking was delicious and gave him the chance to stay with Kimihiro for longer.

“You love Kimihiro.” Yuuko spoke when Kimihiro had left with the empty dishes. She set her pipe aside and regarded him from solemn eyes. “I entrust him to you.”

The sound of the shishiodoshi, bamboo hollow on stone, was loud in the silence.

Doumeki felt a chill. Impulsively, he reached out and caught her hand. “I’ll take care of him.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Shizuka.”

XLIII: Knotted Thread

Doumeki knew something was wrong as soon as he saw the messenger. The length of silk embroidery he had been studying hung limply from his hand as he stared at the wheezing boy. Doumeki recognized him. He did odd jobs at the teahouse.

“Word from Ochaya Ichihara.” The words were gasped out. “The mistress-” His shoulders hunched as he choked. Tears spilled form his eyes.

Doumeki felt a chill, cold urgency filling him. Kimihiro.

He thrust the embroidery at Ryouichi, “Take care of the boy.” Ignoring the startled stares of his assistant and the embroiderer, Doumeki grabbed his coat and left at a run.

XLIV: Empty Space

Watanuki was sitting on the veranda. A faint breeze ruffled his hair and the kimono that lay across his lap.

Scarlet and black. One of Yuuko’s.

Doumeki slowly walked over and quietly sat down next to him.

“She’s gone.” The shishiodoshi struck stone, punctuating the soft words. Kimihiro stared down at the long pipe he held in his hands.

Doumeki wrapped an arm around his shoulders, slowly pulling him close.

Kimihiro fell against his shoulder, clutching Doumeki’s coat. His shoulders started shaking and his grip tightened, crumpling cloth.

Doumeki tightened his arm around him, saying nothing about the growing dampness seeping through his shirt.

XLV: Silent Solace

Doumeki stayed the night.

Kimihiro’s grief was surprisingly quiet. A silent slide of tears. He clung to Doumeki and cried unselfconsciously, the kimono spilling from his lap and the pipe fallen to the tatami mats. Finally he slumped against Doumeki, exhausted by his grief. But he clung to Doumeki as he untangled them from the kimono and picked him up.

He was still clinging to Doumeki when they reached Kimihiro’s bedroom. Doumeki simply lay down with him, not worrying about his clothes.

Kimihiro twitched and Doumeki stroked his short hair, tightening his other arm around him. He’d stay as long as Kimihiro needed him.

~x~X~x~

On to Lingering Grief

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile: Slow Seduction: XXIV-XXXIII

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 15:00:03 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Midnight Smile: Slow Seduction: XXIV-XXXIII
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG (for the moment :)
Warning: Basically a romance :O So no complicated plots, evil villains, nothing but love (@!# and #$^&%!@ :3) Okay, there might be a little bit of plot, a sliver of evil XD
Comment: AU (Midnight Smile). Story in drabble form (yay!)
Summary: Doumeki doesn't care for the performing arts. Until he sees a performance that he will never forget :D

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile:

Slow Seduction: XXIV-XXXIII

XXIV: Discarded Petals

The last of the cherry blossoms clung precariously to the dark branches above. One lost its hold and fell down to land on Watanuki’s hair, pink on black.

“What do you do?” The question was soft, accompanied by a curious look from dark blue eyes.

“I manage several silk factories.” Doumeki watched as a small breeze dislodged the petal and sent the small flake in a twisting pinwheel towards the ground. “My grandfather started the business.”

Watanuki was silent for a moment, head down as they continued to walk the garden. “Do you enjoy it?”

Not as much as he was enjoying himself now.

XXV: Fleeting Touch

Ichihara-san was silent, content to watch and listen through the meal. Watanuki was talking about his latest performance.

Doumeki watched him lay out the meal. He went to all of Watanuki’s performances these days. Except for a word of two when Watanuki got it wrong (eliciting several glares), Doumeki was content to let Watanuki do all the talking.

It gave him the freedom to eat and watch Watanuki. He was wearing samue and Doumeki found that he liked the way they fitted the other man’s slender body.

Watanuki handed him a glass and their hands touched.

Watanuki pulled away, face colouring.

Ichihara-san’s smile widened.

XXVI: Stalled Advances

It had been an instinctive reaction. Watanuki had smiled at him and Doumeki hadn’t thought, simply acted. Drawing Watanuki closer and planting their lips together. Trying to convey what he had failed to say with words.

Watanuki was stiff against him for a long moment. And then he pulled back. Refusal and rejection in one.

Doumeki drew back slightly, finding himself speared by a dark blue glare. “You didn’t want that?”

Watanuki hissed out a negative and thrust him back. His steps were quick as he darted back inside, leaving Doumeki in the garden alone.

Doumeki watched him go, frustration burning in his gut.

XXVII: Chilled Silk

Doumeki stared down at the bolt of cloth. His last gift had been rejected but he didn’t intend this one to be.

Watanuki had been noticeably colder of late. Distant when they met. Refusing to sit next to him. No longer seeking him out in the audience.

And he had started to avoid him as well. Making excuses to cut short their time together when Doumeki visited. Or being unavailable for future ones. It was like a preface to refusal.

Ichihara-san had already turned him away once.

Doumeki stood up, sealing the lid on the bolt of silk. This time Watanuki would see him.

XXVIII: Threatening Spectre

As Doumeki passed through the roofed gateway, he barely avoided colliding with an exiting visitor. The man didn’t even apologise, contining out onto the street with long angry strides.

Doumeki had only caught a glimpse of greying hair, dark eyes and a tight mouth. But it was enough. Masuda.

Ichihara-san stood in the doorway of the teahouse like a guardian: arms crossed tightly over her chest, a look of barely-suppressed fury on her face. It receded slightly when she set eyes on him, replaced by command. “The garden, Doumeki-san.”

Watanuki. Doumeki handed her the box and headed out into the garden at a run.

XXIX: Solid Reassurance

Watanuki was sitting out on a bench under the maples. The light slanting through the green leaves lit his hunched form. His eyes flashed up, a fearful look that fell away in surprise as he saw Doumeki.

“Did he do anything?” Doumeki was ready to go and hunt the bastard down.

Watanuki was silent for a moment too long. “I refused him.”

Doumeki sat down carefully next to him on the bench. Watanuki stared at him but didn’t protest. His gaze lowered to the path.

Doumeki cautiously wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Watanuki stiffened. But slowly, as Doumeki did nothing more, he relaxed.

XXX: Warding Charm

“I can’t wear this during a performance.” From the tone of his voice, Watanuki was asking why Doumeki was giving him the silk.

Doumeki shrugged. “You said you liked frogs.”

Watanuki’s eyes widened. It was clear he didn’t remember.

“At the park.” They had gone there nearly a month ago.

Watanuki’s eyes were on the frogs swimming across the fabric. “And you remembered?”

Doumeki didn’t say anything. He remembered everything Watanuki said.

Watanuki was silent for a moment. His fingers traced the smooth silk, the unusual pattern that made it unsuitable for public display. His voice was quiet when he did speak. “Thank you.”

XXXI: Gracious Permission

“I give you permission.” It was said suddenly and Watanuki didn’t look at him as he said it.

Doumeki blinked. “For what?” They had been sitting out in the garden as had become their habit. And he hadn’t asked for anything.

A strange look crossed Watanuki’s face; a mix of growing embarrassment and irritation. “You didn’t ask last time.”

Doumeki’s eyes widened as he suddenly realised what Watanuki was talking about. The kiss. Had that been the reason?

He leaned forward and set a hand to the side of Watanuki’s face to pull him closer. Their lips met.

This time Watanuki didn’t pull away.

XXXII: Scarlet Leaves

The leaves on the maple in the courtyard below were scarlet, marking the turning of the season. But neither Doumeki nor Watanuki were looking at the view.

Watanuki clung to Doumeki, pale fingers fisted in the fabric covering his shoulders. He was making small strangled noises in his throat. But they weren’t protests – Doumeki knew that Watanuki was enjoying what they were doing. Where once it had been shut against him, Watanuki’s body now yielded. Leaning into Doumeki’s chest, his grip pulling him closer and accepting his embrace.

And his lips opened, his head tilting back to allow Doumeki better access to his mouth.

XXXIII: Scented Oil

“I have something for you.” Doumeki’s voice sounded slightly unsteady to his own ears. He retrieved the item that had been sitting in his pocket for months. A small box.

Watanuki simply stared at it for a few moments. And then recognition seeped onto his face, stillness taking over his body.

He glanced at Doumeki, his blue eyes suddenly painfully intense as he studied Doumeki face. Searching for something.

Whatever it was, he must have found it. Their eyes still locked, he reached out and firmly grasped the small box, fingers brushing Doumeki’s palm. “I accept.”

Watanuki had finally accepted his offer as patron.

~x~X~x~

On to First Night

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile: Courtship Dance: XVIII-XXIII

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 14:49:42 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Midnight Smile: Courtship Dance: XVIII-XXIII
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG (for the moment :)
Warning: Basically a romance :O So no complicated plots, evil villains, nothing but love (@!# and #$^&%!@ :3) Okay, there might be a little bit of plot, a sliver of evil XD
Comment: AU (Midnight Smile). Story in drabble form (yay!)
Summary: Doumeki doesn't care for the performing arts. Until he sees a performance that he will never forget :D

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile:

Courtship Dance: XVIII-XXIII

XVIII: Boxed Delights

“What’s this?” Watanuki stared suspiciously down at the box set on the garden bench.

“Turkish delights.” Doumeki lifted the lid and took one before pushing the box towards Watanuki.

Watanuki cast a wary look at the sweets and lifted one out of the box. He eyed it suspiciously for a moment then popped it into his mouth.

Doumeki watched him eat it, chewing slowly on his own piece. “What do you think?”

“It’s sweet.” Watanuki took another from the box. He sounded somewhat reluctant, as if he didn’t want to admit it.

Doumeki didn’t say anything, simply took another sweet. It was a start.

XIX: Priceless Advice

“You’ve made a good start, Doumeki-san.”

Doumeki turned to see Ichihara-san leaning against the rail of the veranda. Thin coils of smoke rose from her pipe, sharp contrast to the dark fall of her long hair.

Doumeki was silent, waiting for her to continue.

A small smile curved her lips. “Watanuki has a performance in a week.” Smoke rose from the pipe and her eyelids lowered, hooding her red eyes. “Yoshitsune Sembon Zakura.” Her smile widened. “He’s playing Shizuka-Gozen.” (1)

Doumeki blinked.

“You might want to find an appropriate gift.” Her eyes traced the smoke slowly twisting through the air.

He frowned. An appropriate gift…

XX: Appropriate Gift

Watanuki froze as soon as he had lifted the lid of the box. “Am I meant to wear these?” His voice was dangerous, anger simmering through the words.

It wasn’t a good reaction. But Watanuki rarely responded well to the gifts Doumeki gave him. “It’s for your performance tomorrow.”

Dark blue eyes flicked up at him then back at the box. Some of the anger left his face.

“I’ll be going tomorrow.” The first time he’d attended a play by choice.

Watanuki glanced at him, a quick guarded look, and then placed the lid on the box. “I haven’t decided whether I’ll wear them.”

XXI: Guarded Acceptance

He did.

The delicate hairpins glittered from the wig Watanuki was wearing. Doumeki found his gaze straying to them when he wasn’t watching Watanuki’s movements across the stage.

Plays were entirely different when Watanuki was on stage. The part when the grief-stricken Shizuka-Gozen was tied to a tree was vastly entertaining. Watanuki’s struggles against the other actors were unlike anything Doumeki had ever seen. He was certain the scarlet flash he saw were the undergarments Watanuki wore under his elaborate kimono.

But that wasn’t the only highlight of the performance. Every so often Watanuki’s gaze would stray to where he sat in the audience.

XXII: Welcome Shield

Watanuki was in the foyer, still dressed in the colourful kimono he had worn in the last act. But there was something wrong with the conversation he was having. With the man who stood with him. Doumeki didn’t like the way the man stood so close.

Watanuki looked up as he approached. Something like relief in his eyes.

“Excuse me.” With barely a nod at the other man, Doumeki took Watanuki’s hand and pulled him away. Watanuki didn’t even resist, letting himself be towed away. The hairpins made a small chiming sound as the performer followed.

They were attracting stares but Doumeki didn’t care.

XXIII: Tenuous Offering

“Who was that?” Doumeki cast a narrow look back at the man they had left behind. He was still staring after them. His eyes on Watanuki.

Watanuki glanced back and quickly turned away. “Matsuda-san. He comes to the teahouse sometimes.”

Doumeki’s lips tightened. One of the men who had sought Watanuki out.

There was a small chiming sound and Doumeki turned back to Watanuki.

The performer’s head was lowered. “Will you visit tomorrow?” It was the first time since Doumeki had started visiting that Watanuki had asked.

He had a business meeting but Doumeki’s reply was immediate. “When do you want me to come?”

~x~X~x~

1) Yoshitsune Sembon Zakura (One Thousand Cherry Trees) is known as one of the three masterpieces of Kabuki and Bunraku (puppet theatre). Shizuka-Gozen is the mistress of the hero, Yoshitsune. And yes, that scene with the tree really is part of the play XD

~x~X~x~

On to Slow Seduction

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile: First Session: XIII-XVII

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 14:44:29 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Midnight Smile: First Session: XIII-XVII
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG (for the moment :)
Warning: Basically a romance :O So no complicated plots, evil villains, nothing but love (@!# and #$^&%!@ :3) Okay, there might be a little bit of plot, a sliver of evil XD
Comment: AU (Midnight Smile). Story in drabble form (yay!)
Summary: Doumeki doesn't care for the performing arts. Until he sees a performance that he will never forget :D

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile:

First Session: XIII-XVII

XIII: Delicate Rain

It was nearing the end of the blossoms. They had thinned until the dark branches that supported them were visible, stark solid lines that held fragile blooms. Petal sails fell at the slightest breeze, tumbling gracefully to join the others already on the ground.

Doumeki watched the fall silently for a moment. A palpable marker of time; inescapable change and fading beauty. A brief moment to be treasured. And an opportunity he wouldn’t let slip through his grasp.

Doumeki turned to Watanuki who was standing beside him, eyes lowered to the ground. He hadn’t spoken or made any other gesture to acknowledge the situation.

XIV: Silent Gulf

After tea had been served, Ichihara-san had suggested they go view the last of the cherry blossoms. From the upstairs room there was a clear view of the old tree and there they could view the sight in peace.

Watanuki had shot her a dark blue glance at the suggestion but said nothing. He had simply risen in a smooth move that attested to his skill in dance and led Doumeki out of the room.

And that left them here. Standing in the room that was usually reserved for entertaining private guests. Alone and with the silence deepening, Watanuki stubbornly not saying a word.

XV: Ensnaring Forms

Even still and silent Watanuki drew the eye. The red kimono contrasted with his pale skin even as the purple and blue butterflies brought out the colour of his eyes and hair. A vision of pale pastels and bold colours, a meld of contrasts that seemed to define the performer.

He was pretty rather than handsome. But pretty didn’t really suffice. Beautiful. Watanuki possessed looks and colouring that ensnared more with every look. Even as his defiant and prickly demeanour added an enticing bite.

Doumeki knew others had seen this too. If he was unable to capture Watanuki, he would fall into other hands.

XVI: Reluctant Quarry

“Watanuki.”

The dark blue eyes finally lifted, anger flashing in their depths at the familiar address. “I’m not a whore to be bought.” There was resentment in his voice.

Doumeki blinked. He couldn’t deny that he wanted Watanuki but he’d never thought of him as a whore.

Watanuki stared at him with narrow eyes then stared out the window. “I don’t want a patron.” His mouth tightened. “But my mother won’t rest until she knows my future is secure.”

“And so you picked me.” Doumeki took a step closer.

A dark blue stare impaled him and then Watanuki was turning his back on him.

XVII: Silent Resolutions

Doumeki studied Watanuki’s profile as the performer stared out the window, avoiding his gaze. “You told me to come here.”

Watanuki’s hands clenched on the sill. “You’re not the first.”

Doumeki knew that was a lie. He was the first person Watanuki had asked. Even though he wasn’t admitting it now, Watanuki must have chosen him for a reason.

Maybe for the same reason Doumeki had come.

Doumeki studied Watanuki’s tense stance, the silent rejection his body now displayed. Watanuki’s opposition only made Doumeki more determined. He’d win Watanuki over and become his patron. Even if he had to seduce him to do so.

~x~X~x~

Er… seduction is sort of the idea here Doumeki. You can’t just buy someone. Well... not Watanuki anyway *giggle*

Watanuki is prospectively what was commonly called wakashu (若衆), onnagata who were homosexual companions to their patrons.

~x~X~x

On to Courtship Dance

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile: Further Overtures: VII-XII

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 14:37:22 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Midnight Smile: Further Overtures: VII-XII
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG (for the moment :)
Warning: Basically a romance :O So no complicated plots, evil villains, nothing but love (@!# and #$^&%!@ :3) Okay, there might be a little bit of plot, a sliver of evil XD
Comment: AU (Midnight Smile). Story in drabble form (yay!)
Summary: Doumeki doesn't care for the performing arts. Until he sees a performance that he will never forget :D

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile:

Further Overtures: VII-XII

VII: Gilded Cage

A purple butterfly was marked boldly on the lantern hanging in the narrow street.

It was hung from a high wooden wall that hid the building within from sight. There was only a roofed gateway to shield visitors from the rain to show that the premises were open to visitors.

A glance within revealed a tidy path leading to the low building, typical of residences in this part of the city. There was nothing to indicate who lived there but Doumeki was certain it was the right place.

A small plaque half-hidden amongst the vines growing over the wall identified the premises. Ochaya Ichihara.

VIII: Benevolent Captor

The mistress of the house received him.

Black on scarlet silk puddled around her lounging form as smoke lifted in slow coils from her pipe. Dark red eyes, stained rubies, stared at him through the haze. Measuring, weighing the man who came to call on her.

The shoji doors were partly open behind her to reveal a small courtyard garden; a green back drop of bamboo and moss-covered rocks. A shishiodoshi (1) struck rock with a hollow sound as it filled and emptied with water. Loud in the silence.

For a long moment there was only that stare, the smoke and the shishiodoshi marking time.

IX: Precarious Existence

“Watanuki Kimihiro is my son.” She released a trickle of smoke with the words, eyes fixed on him with an unblinking gaze. “He knows that his performances cannot support him through life.” Another coil rose from the pipe. “He must seek another path.”

She paused, her eyes regarded him with a dark, knowing gaze. “You are not the first to come. Many people come to seek him out.”

Doumeki felt a clench of anger at her words, recalling the men who had approached Watanuki after the performance.

She was watching him closely, curiosity in her eyes. “But you are the first he has asked.”

X: Barbed Proposition

The first.

There was a hollow thunk from the courtyard. Doumeki was hardly aware of it, consumed by the strong feeling that was rising from those words. That Watanuki had chosen him.

Ichihara-san’s gaze turned to the flower arrangement set in the tokonoma (2). Her dark eyes traced the elegant forms, the careful composition of colour. “I will not be long in this world.” There was another thunk, punctuating her words.

Doumeki remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

“I wish to be assured of Kimihiro’s future.” Painted lips released the pipe and the burgundy eyes slid sidelong. “I seek a patron for my son.”

XI: Painted Lure

As if on cue, one of the painted doors slid open.

Dark blue eyes flashed from a pale face devoid of paint. Latticed wings of butterflies adorned the full sleeves and elegant fall of silk that encased his slender frame. Watanuki picked up the tray set on the floor and set it inside before gracefully getting up and kneeling once more to slide the door shut once more.

Tea for three was on the tray. Watanuki was going to join them.

Doumeki watched him set out the cups.

Their eyes met. The look from those dark eyes wasn’t surprised. But they weren’t welcoming either.

XII: Unwanted Patron

Ichihara-san’s eyes slid from Watanuki to Doumeki. “But first you will have to convince my son.” Her lips closed around the pipe once more.

Convince. It seemed that Watanuki wasn’t entirely sure of him. The whispered words had been impulse.

Doumeki watched Watanuki pour the tea, the careful grip on the teapot, the flash of pale wrist as he held back his sleeve to pour. His movements were graceful yet there was a tension in his body, a slight stiffness that spoke of reluctance and opposition.

Even though Watanuki had been the one who approached him, Doumeki knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

~x~X~x~

1) Shishiodoshi – a Japanese water feature, consisting of a length of hollow bamboo that tips as it fills with water.

2) Tokonoma – a small alcove in traditional Japanese homes used to display objects, usually pieces of art.

~x~X~x~

On to First Session

~x~X~x~

Midnight Smile: First Performance I-V

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 13:53:53 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Midnight Smile: First Performance I-V
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG (for the moment :)
Warning: Basically a romance :O So no complicated plots, evil villains, nothing but love (@!# and #$^&%!@ :3) Okay, there might be a little bit of plot, a sliver of evil XD
Comment: AU (Midnight Smile). Story in drabble form (yay!)
Summary: Doumeki doesn't care for the performing arts. Until he sees a performance that he will never forget :D

AN: I have something special for you all. I’m pleased to present an AU I’ve been working on for a long time.

When Iambic's Christmas goodies came out in ’07, I got the idea for a 104 series of drabbles. A story told entirely in drabbles. The idea was so enticing I had to write one - just to see if I could manage drabbles of 104 words and keep it up :D (There was also the added bonus that I could write as many as I wanted without a big word count XD) All I had to do was find an appropriate plot to fit in with a format where every word is important. *slow smile* That didn’t take me long to figure out, at all ~~even if finishing it did XD~~. Choice made, I then started lovingly composing drabbles for the next year or so, in the time I had spare, indulging in some of my favourite aspects of Japanese culture and imagery.

So here we are. I now give you the entire Midnight Smile AU. Sit back, get some coffee or tea ~~or wine XD~~ and have a nice slow read. And most of all, enjoy :D

Hmmm…maybe I should have made that 104 words XD

Midnight Smile:

First Performance: I-V

I: First Glance

Doumeki didn’t know why he was here.

It was customary to attend some sort of social event while sealing a business deal. It happened to be mere chance that Nagano was interested in the performing arts. Before Doumeki knew what was happening, he found himself seated in the audience of a theatre.

While Doumeki appreciated tradition, colourful costumes and melodramatic speeches didn’t appeal to him. It wasn’t until a supporting character came onto stage that it happened. The onnagata (1) chanced to glance out into the audience and their eyes met for one split world-altering second.

And Doumeki suddenly realized why theatre was so popular.

II: Painted Face

Doumeki watched the actor for the rest of the performance.

The story that was unfolding on the stage was forgotten. The vividly-coloured costumes of the leads, the pompous speeches and dramatic music – it all faded into the background. Instead there was only a pale face, painted white with black paint emphasizing the dark blue eyes that broadcasted a range of emotions like twin mirrors.

Despite the concealing paint, the man’s emotions were conveyed perfectly. As if, even through a mask, the vibrant personality beneath could not be concealed.

Doumeki watched every move, every expression. He wanted to know who was under that painted face.

III: Slender Beauty

Doumeki was eager to see more.

When Nagano suggested that they attend the post-performance festivities, he was pleasantly surprised to receive an agreement. Soon they were standing in the theatre foyer, part of the sombrely-dressed crowd that surrounded the actors.

Doumeki’s player stood slightly to the side. Hands clasped in front of him, quietly conversing with those around him. The bright colours of his costume and the paint on his face casting him a slender pale beauty, highlighted by graceful silk. Obediently standing apart.

Doumeki watched him. Seeing the older men who had come close to talk and smile, eyes holding dark suggestive glints.

IV: Veiled Frustration

As the gathering wore on it became clear that the onnagata’s appearance was deceiving. While he was courteous, slight changes of expression and moments of jarring body language suggested he was uncomfortable with the situation.

His eyes suddenly rose, meeting Doumeki’s across the room. A brilliant flash of hidden frustration and dread that faded as their eyes locked. It was only for a second and then it vanished as his eyes turned away. Their gazes didn’t meet again but Doumeki was certain that the player had felt the power of that moment as well.

The actor didn’t belong here any more than Doumeki did.

V: Closer Inspection

There were introductions and bows all round as the men were brought to meet the performers. Unlike Nagano, Doumeki was uninterested in the leads and listened for the name of his player.

Watanuki Kimihiro.

No one else seemed interested in a supporting performer but Doumeki found him more fascinating at close quarters. He kept his eyes lowered, quiet in the company that surrounded him. Except for one or two glances at Doumeki from under his lowered lashes. Cautious, assessing stares.

Doumeki pretended not to notice, allowing him the illusion of secrecy. Pleased to see that the vultures that had surrounded him were now gone.

VI: Whispered Words

Their audience was brief; they had only a few minutes and then the cast was guided to another group. Doumeki barely said a word, eyes fixed on Watanuki.

He had been silent, but Doumeki had seen the lightening quick changes of expression as the man struggled with something. A choice to make.

The dark blue eyes suddenly slid sideways, a spilt-second flash as the man walked past him. “Ochaya Ichihara.” It was barely a whisper.

But Doumeki had heard it and kept the words in his mind as he watched the slender player disappear into the crowd once more. He would see Watanuki again.

~x~X~x~

1) Onnagata 女方 (also Oyama 女形) are kabuki actors who play women’s roles.

~x~X~x

On to Further Overtures

~x~X~x~

Transient

Fri, 04 Sep 2009 17:49:48 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Transient
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG
Length: Oneshot
Comment: AU (Houseguest). Set directly after Unwelcome Guest.
Summary: Watanuki finds himself saddled with two furry houseguests XD

AN: My love for these two grows every time I write more *happy sigh* ~~Though that could apply for everything XD~~

Transient

Dogs.

Last time Watanuki checked, dogs weren't the size of small ponies with teeth to match. These weren't dogs. They were small skinny bears and at the moment they were intent on raiding his kitchen. Even as he stood there one of them was rearing up on its hind legs, large paws set on the counter, to sniff at the fruit bowl.

That was it. They might have been huge lethal creatures but this was Watanuki's kitchen. He wasn't about to let them shed fur on everything, lick things and contaminate his kitchen. He wanted breakfast, damn it, and he wasn't in the mood to tidy up after big slobbering furry creatures when he already had to clean up after the devil cat which had conveniently disappeared, leaving its mess behind.

"You!" He pointed at the dog half on the counter, trying not to think how ridiculous he must look clad only in a towel and issuing commands to the huge beast. The only good thing was that Doumeki was still on the couch in the other room.

Reading his book. Watanuki grit his teeth.

The dog had its mouth open, looking like it was about to inhale an orange (Watanuki noted warily that such a thing wouldn't have been a problem - its mouth was so big it could have inhaled the whole bowl) but it turned its head to look at him, ears pricked.

The second dog was standing to one side of the counter. It was slightly smaller than the other one, which meant it looked slightly more like a dog than a bear. Its head was on level with the bench top and its dark brown eyes were fixed on him with curiosity. Its mouth was closed and Watanuki trusted that it wouldn't maul him if he kept an eye on it.

He directed his attention to the other monster leaning on the bench. "If you're going to stay here, there are a few unbreakable rules."

The dog cocked its head to one side, looking for all intents and purposes like it was actually listening.

Watanuki stared at it, making his message clear. "No moulting. No licking. And absolutely no access to the kitchen!"

The dog was still for a moment. Then to Watanuki's surprise, it pushed off from the bench top and returned to all fours. It was still big enough that its head was clearly visible over the bench and Watanuki watched as it padded a step or two out of the suddenly too-small kitchen. The dog gently nudged the smaller one with its nose as it passed and then it was approaching Watanuki, the other dog following behind. They stopped about a foot short of him, crowding him with their huge furry bodies and staring at him with big curious brown eyes.

Watanuki instinctively made to take a step back but stopped himself before he could finish the move. Dominance. Dogs were all about dominance, weren't they? All he had to exert his authority and they would fall into line.

Right.

The stalemate dragged out for a few moments Watanuki staring at the two dogs which simply stared back curiously. Finally the larger dog stretched its head forward.

After a frightened second Watanuki worked out what it was doing. He extended a cautious hand for it to sniff, fingers curled in a fist so it couldn't bite them off.

It sniffed carefully at his knuckles and slowly the big tail started wagging.

Watanuki let out a deep breath of relief. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad-

An arm reached around from behind him and a large hand took a hold of the towel wrapped around his waist.

"Wha-” Watanuki twisted his head to look over his shoulder only to be confronted with pale gold eyes. "Doumeki?! What are you doing?!"

Doumeki was peering down over his shoulder. His other hand had clutched the towel as well and he was taking a grip on either end of the towel. A towel that had unravelled and was nearly falling off.

"Doumeki!" Watanuki's hands were grasping at Doumeki's, trying to stop him from unwrapping the towel. What the hell was Doumeki doing?!

But Doumeki only tightened the towel's wrap around his waist, tucking one end in firmly under the edge, knuckles brushing across Watanuki's stomach. "Your towel was falling off." He stared into Watanuki's eyes, a strangely intent stare, and then stepped back, arms releasing their hold. He turned and casually strolled out of the kitchen, the two dogs trailing him out, tails wagging furiously.

Watanuki gaped after him, one hand resting on his stomach where Doumeki’s hand had brushed. Flustered and his thoughts zigging around inside his head on crazy tangents. That look- Had Doumeki-

He growled. Breakfast. He needed something relatively uncomplicated to distract him.

~x~X~x~

Before starting breakfast, Watanuki quickly looked through the kitchen for damage. Despite their apparent curiosity, the dogs didn’t appear to have done any harm to anything. There were no paw prints, no slobbery marks or discarded fur. Watanuki started to think that his beloved kitchen might have escaped unscathed.

And then he looked in the cupboard. Something had ripped open a bag of flour, spilling its contents down over the shelves. A strand of violently red fur and a smudged paw print revealed who the culprit had been. The spiteful creature had left him a farewell present.

Watanuki attacked the mess furiously. The fine white powder concealed other damage and Watanuki's fury expanded with every new discovery. "That blasted cat!" He raised his voice so that Doumeki could hear him. "DOUMEKI! That cat of yours has been in my kitchen!" He spotted a clawed bag of sugar and scowled. "I should have kicked it out when I had the chance," he muttered spitefully.

There was a slight scuff noise. Watanuki looked up to see Doumeki had been drawn by the shouts. "Look what that monster did!" Watanuki pointed to the open cupboard. He glared at the dogs who had followed Doumeki in and were watching his angry movements curiously. "You were supposed to keep an eye on it!" He was feeling somewhat betrayed at the thought. Doumeki was usually pretty good upholding his part of the silent terms they lived under. He kept the furry visitors to a minimum and out of the way and Watanuki didn't ask any questions.

Doumeki's had been staring into the cupboard but his eyes flicked back to Watanuki, darkening for a moment. "I had to go out for a while."

Watanuki's mouth shut. There was nothing happy about those words. It didn't happen often but when Doumeki disappeared for a while, he wasn't very happy when he returned. Watanuki had learnt not to bring it up. The sight of Doumeki now, blunted his anger.

Watanuki attacked the mess with more enthusiasm. "Next time, tell me before you leave." It was a half-hearted remonstration, lacking heat. Except for a few blistering expletives directed at the absent cat, he was silent as he tidied up the mess.

Doumeki leaned against a wall to watch, the two dogs sitting at his side, brown eyes trained on Watanuki's every movement. They seemed fascinated by his sharp angry movements and inclined to simply watch. What had Doumeki staring so intently, eyelids lowered over his eyes, Watanuki diligently didn't speculate on. But he did check to see that his towel was securely fastened from time to time.

It was a full ten minutes later that the mess was tidied up. Several cartons and jars had been thrown into the bin and there were a number of gaps on the shelves. Watanuki peered into the cupboard with disgust. "I'm going to have to go shopping."

"After breakfast." Doumeki was still watching him. "You have to vacuum, too." His arms were crossed over his chest, fingers gripped curiously tight over his biceps.

Watanuki shot him a glance. Not quite sure whether Doumeki was being a smartass or not. He only got Doumeki's blank look, though. It was impossible to tell.

"Fine." Watanuki headed out of the kitchen, aware of Doumeki's gaze on him as he passed.

But first he was going to get dressed. In the last ten minutes he had developed a fear of losing his towel.

~x~X~x~

The sun was shinning, only a few stray wispy-looking clouds painted across the pale blue sky. Small birds were jumping from branch to branch in trees planted on the sidewalk and a sparrow was hovering under an eave of a nearby building as it plucked spiders from their webs. A car would pass down the street every so often but mostly it was quiet, most people still sleeping in on their Saturday morning.

It only made his own situation all the more peculiar, Watanuki reflected. He glanced aside at Doumeki who was strolling beside him then at the two huge dogs who were trotting along the footpath ahead of them. It was a good thing that no one could see them but him.

Doumeki was in his usual clothes. It was a strange cross between kimono and hanfu, the rich fabric nearly reaching his ankles in a graceful fall. A thin obi sash wrapped around his hips and was laced over with a thin cord that hung down on his left, terminating in a strange clump of plaited cords weighted down with small stones. It made him look like an actor from a period drama or some fanatic cosplayer. Except he wore the outfit with a confidence that only came with long wear. These were Doumeki's habitual clothes and anyone looking at him would be able to see that at first glance.

It made Watanuki wonder what Doumeki's home was like. Was he from the past or somewhere else? Watanuki had never asked and he kept silent now. Some answers he wasn't ready for.

The dogs were enjoying the outing. Tails the size of baseball bats were whipping through the air. No square inch was left unscented and more than one flock of starlings was sent to air, spooked by the fast approach of a large unseen body.

Watanuki didn't even bother to try and stop them. They weren't really doing any harm and Watanuki had learnt to adopt a live and let live policy where Doumeki's furry friends were concerned. As long as they kept within certain bounds, he could ignore them.

Or try to. There were some things that Watanuki had begun to see that he couldn't ignore.

Watanuki tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that thought brought to life. Shopping. Restocking his cupboard. Planning what to cook for dinner. They were better things to think about.

It took only a few minutes to reach the store. Normally Watanuki would venture into the bottom level of one of the department stores to shop but at the moment he was determined not to let the departed demon cat destroy the relaxing day he had planned at home. He could pick up what he needed at the corner store and make the outing only a minor inconvenience.

He paused on the corner outside the shop, pretending to look at the advertisements on the window. He had learned that having a plausible excuse to stand still made him look like less of an idiot. If he started staring at things that weren't there, people tended to give him a wide berth.

A sidelong glance showed that the dogs had stopped and were curiously staring at the small flow of people who were striding through the store doors. The smaller one actually followed after a casually dressed youth for a few steps before stopping as the automated doors slid shut behind him. It moved out of the way as they opened again to let a middle-aged woman out onto the street. They were curious but not getting in the way.

Watanuki glanced at Doumeki.

The other man met his gaze and leaned against the side of the store, facing out on the street and keeping an eye on the dogs. Doumeki was planning to stay outside then. The thought sent a jab of disquiet through him for some reason but Watanuki ignored it. He didn't need help to get groceries.

The chime sounded as the doors opened and Watanuki nodded in acknowledgement at the toneless ritual greeting of the young woman behind the counter. He picked up one of the small plastic baskets set inside the entrance and started down the first aisle, quickly selecting what he needed.

His path led him towards the fridges at the back of the small shop and he stopped, caught by the sight of the beer cans neatly lined up in their thin shelves. He didn't drink often but he was tempted to get something. Maybe Doumeki would join him. He had gotten the idea that Doumeki liked to drink.

Watanuki shook his head at the thought. Doumeki didn't eat anything. It was doubtful that he could drink anything either.

He glanced out the large glass windows to the street. Doumeki's head was visible above the advertisements on the window. Watanuki could also make out the large grey paws of one of the dogs as it trotted past. They looked rather comical cut off as they were.

Watanuki caught himself smiling and turned away. He checked the basket. He had everything-

His eyes fell on the small shelf of reading material in the corner of the store. With Doumeki appropriating his book, he was without something to read. Watanuki took a step closer so that he could read the titles. He wasn't into manga, which was the bulk of selections, but there was sometimes a light novel that could spark his interest.

His hand stopped short of the spine of a likely title. He frowned. There was something on the shelf. A dark smudge like grease. But the uneasy feeling he was experiencing told Watanuki that it wasn't simply the result of poor cleaning.

And he was right. One of the things he had started seeing was close by. Pulling itself from behind the pile of nearby newspapers, smothering the dark print with the slime that lubricated its body. One half-rotted eye rolled precariously in its socket and fixed on him.

Watanuki took a slow step backwards. Then another. Without taking his gaze from it, he slowly backed away along the fridges. Then with more haste that was seemly, he hurried down the far aisle to make his purchases. Warily darting glances back as he paid.

The dogs were at his side as soon as he stepped back onto the street. They had been staring into the store but crowded around him as he left the doorway. Watanuki carefully edged through the large furry bodies, to clear the doors.

Doumeki was close by, too, having left his post at the wall. He shot a narrow glance into the store then turned back to Watanuki. "They've been cooped up for a while."

Watanuki knew what he was asking. There was a park nearby. Somewhere he could sit and look normal while the dogs could be free to tear around and sniff to their hearts' delight.

Watanuki looked down the street. It was a beautiful day. Warm but not too hot. He had almost forgotten the creature in the shop and was already tempted to postpone his plans for the day. He'd already done most of the clean up already and none of the items he'd bought were perishable.

And the book he'd been planning to read had already been claimed.

Watanuki glanced at the dogs which were peering up at him, heads tilted in inquiring looks. They looked eager but were behaving themselves.

He nodded silently and started down the street in the direction of the park. Trying to ignore the small cheerful feeling that came to life as the two large tails started wagging furiously.

~x~X~x~

Watanuki sat on the park bench and watched as the two large dogs chased each other across the green belt. Doumeki sat with him, looking strangely out of place as he sat comfortably on the modern bench. But Doumeki looked odd wherever they went.

It had been mostly a silent outing. Watanuki couldn't really talk to Doumeki without looking like a crazy person and Doumeki wasn't the type to start a conversation, let alone do most of the talking. So they simply sat there, watching the dogs. Watanuki trying to make it look like he was simply enjoying the scenery.

Sometimes being able to see what wasn't there was a pain in the ass.

But he wasn't really complaining today. After the demon cat, the two large grey dogs were almost civilized. And spending the morning simply sitting in the park and relaxing wasn't the worst thing he could imagine.

Watanuki let his gaze wander around the park. There were other people out enjoying the weather. Two teenage girls were giggling over a comic book about fifty metres away. A couple of normal dogs were sniffing at each other at the end of their leashes as their owners talked. The volunteer gardeners were at work on the flower beds on the other side of the green: weeding, mulching and preparing new beds. One elderly man was sitting on a low stool and laboriously cutting off dead flowers one by one with a small pair of scissors.

It was far from the hectic pace at the office and the craziness that often confronted him at home. Watanuki felt normal for the first time in a while. Sitting next to the man no one else could see and watching the huge dogs that no one was aware of.

Watanuki's mouth twitched. Well as normal as he was going to get.

It was a surprise then when the uneasiness he had been feeling before returned. Watanuki could feel his entire body tense up as he started scanning his surroundings. They were usually found lurking in shadowed places, peering out from concealed spots like disturbingly malevolent scavengers.

Usually. They were usually small, too. But this one wasn't. It wasn't alone, either.

There were four of them. Four rotten carcasses that had decayed so much that it was impossible to work out what they had been. The muscles on their limbs were barely enough to cover the bone they were attached to and every movement burst open flesh releasing a small tide of liquefied putrefaction. But the horrible state of their bodies weren't enough deter them. Their eyes, precariously perched in decayed sockets, were fixed firmly on him.

They were big. Far bigger than the small creature he had seen in the store.

Watanuki gripped the edge of the bench, wood cutting into his palms. He had never seen anything like this before.

There was a rustle of fabric as Doumeki got up from the bench and moved to stand in front of him. Pale eyes locked with an implacable stare on the creatures that confronted them both. He lifted his fingers to his mouth and let out a sharp whistle.

The two dogs were on the other side of the green. They had stopped running, standing poised as they stared back. At Doumeki's whistle, they burst into action. They were big but they were fast. The two dogs streaked back towards them, tearing up dirt and clumps of grass with their passage.

The smaller one was slightly faster. It ran right at the creatures, jaws snapping as it tore through the unnatural cluster. One of the creatures fell over, one of its legs snapped in half and hanging awkwardly from strips of shredded muscle. Even so it still clawed its way upright, its entire body listing to the side as it stood on the broken end of bone.

The dog hadn't stopped moving, though. It was circling them, darting in to snap at limbs, to wreck havoc in quick attacks that left the creatures reeling and in disarray. But it was comparatively light damage, Watanuki saw. The things didn't seem to care that their bodies were being torn apart.

There was a meaty thud as the larger dog arrived. It ploughed right into one of the creatures, taking a good grip on it before worrying at the carcass, roughly shaking and ripping free large pieces. The others turned to the new threat but the smaller dog was there with flashing teeth, distracting them from the bigger dog.

With a nasty crunching sound, the large dog tossed the creature it had been attacking aside. Watanuki recoiled as the disgusting thing landed in front of Doumeki, skidding along the ground. It was still moving feebly, broken limbs scratching at the ground as it sought to rise, but that was cut short as a geta was brought down forcefully on its head. Doumeki stared down at it coolly for a moment then kicked it aside.

There was another discarded carcass a few feet away, twitching as the large dog left it and pounced on another one, holding it down under its paws and ripping limbs free with vicious growling sounds. The last creature was already scrambling away, dragging useless limbs and using broken fingers to pull itself away.

The smaller dog wasn't going to let it escape, though. With the other creatures taken care of by its larger companion, the dog poured all its attention on the last one. The darting attacks had the thing slewing around awkwardly in an attempt to defend itself. But its movements were growing slower as the dog whittled away its usable limbs. Finally the dog darted in and closed its jaws around the creature's neck. A sharp shake and the creature stopped moving for good.

The larger dog had been trotting around, checking to see that all the creatures were dead. It came up to the smaller dog and they engaged in a brief session of sniffing and nudging to check for injuries. They turned, tails wagging happily and padded over to Doumeki who started patting them, larger hands stroking over their heads and backs.

Watanuki finally unclenched his hands from around the bench edge. Home. He had to get home. A place where there were no half-dead things that watched him, followed him or tried to attack him. If the dogs hadn't been here- He got up shakily from the bench and made to pick up the shopping bag.

His hands were shaking and it ended up on the path, contents spilling out in a wide arc.

The two giggling teens had been walking up the path and immediately darted forward to help pick up the scattered packages. "Are you alright, sir?" One of them looked up at him with wide dark eyes as she handed over a bag of sugar.

Watanuki glanced at the rotting arm that lay on the grass a few meters behind her: Doumeki and the dogs, which were staring at him; the messy scatter of limbs that spread out behind the park bench, in full view. He turned back to the girls who were crouching down to pick up his groceries. They didn’t see any of it.

He accepted the sugar and crouched down to help. "I'm fine." His smile was unsteady and not at all convincing. "Thank you."

~x~X~x~

Watanuki sat on the couch, the large dog's head on his knee. Actually its head was so big it practically filled his lap but Watanuki was ignoring that just as he was ignoring as the huge paw that was draped over his thigh. The dog wasn't meant to be sitting on the couch but he was going to allow it just this once.

The smaller dog was lying at Doumeki's side where he sat on the floor, back against the front of the couch. It was curled up asleep, exhausted by its efforts earlier in the day. Doumeki had an idle hand on its back, the book in his other hand as he read. He was still except for the slow movement of his eyes and the lifting of his hand to turn the page.

Watanuki's fingers were scratching behind the large furry ears of the dog in his lap. It was somehow comforting, reaching through the thick fur to scratch at the warm skin beneath. "What are they doing here?"

Doumeki stopped reading. His eyes slid to Watanuki, the hand holding the book lowering to his lap. "It's a transfer point for them." Doumeki glanced down at the grey curl of fur beside him. "A stop before their final destination."

Watanuki frowned. The news didn't cheer him. He was slightly startled to realize that he was going to miss them when they were gone. It hadn't been a bad day. He had enjoyed himself despite the incident in the park. More than he had any day since his accident.

That just showed how screwed up his life had become.

He hadn't ever asked about what Doumeki did. He hadn't wanted to. It was easier to hold onto the last superficial line that kept him from being involved, the last step that would confirm that he was mixed up in this unseen world. He had always felt that if he knew what was going on, he would only be sucked in further into the strange events Doumeki was involved in.

He glanced down at the large head in his lap. The dark brown eyes were open and looking up at him. Watanuki resumed scratching. "Where are they going?"

Doumeki set the book down. He stared at Watanuki for a long moment. When he finally spoke, it was in quiet serious tones. "Where they're needed." His eyes lowered to the dog sleeping at his side. "They were born for one purpose."

Watanuki could guess what that was. Their actions at the park had made that pretty clear. He looked down at the dog one his lap before looking up at Doumeki again.

The other man was staring at him, waiting for the next question. He would answer it, Watanuki realized. If he asked Doumeki what he was, why he was here, Doumeki would answer him truthfully.

He continued to scratch the dog's ears, staying silent.

Doumeki finally picked up the book again and started reading.

~x~X~x~

Watanuki headed for the shower as soon as he got out of bed. He hadn't been able to sleep well and it had gotten to the stage where there was no point trying to get any more sleep.

The shower had him feeling a bit more revived and he was in a relatively good mood as he headed to the lounge room. The dogs had followed him to his bedroom last night but had been satisfied with a few pats and scratches. The last he had seen of them were a pair of furry tails disappearing back down the hallway. Watanuki had assumed that they had opted to stay in the lounge room with Doumeki.

But when he entered the room, Doumeki was alone, reading. He glanced up when Watanuki walked in, blinking as he saw Watanuki was fully dressed. A slight frown lowered his brows.

Watanuki looked around the room. "Where are the dogs?"

Doumeki closed his book. "They're gone." He said it quietly.

"Gone?" Watanuki felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He had expected that they would stay at least another day. And he hadn't thought that their absence would affect him so badly. His good mood was already plummeting.

"They'll be alright." Doumeki was watching him with an expression that could have been sympathy but looked like blandness. "They've gone where they're meant to be."

It didn't console him. He had just gotten used to having them around. They were one of the few things that Doumeki had brought home which he had gotten along with.

"Do you want breakfast?" He wanted to distract himself with something and cooking usually worked.

Doumeki stared at him. It lasted so long that Watanuki began to think that he'd said something wrong. "No." The words were slow, careful. "Not today." He got up and quietly left the room.

Watanuki stared after him, feeling somewhat bewildered. It suggested that Doumeki could eat. But Watanuki had never seen him do it. And the way Doumeki had acted- Did food have some strange significance he wasn't aware of?

Not today. It suggested that the offer might be taken up some day. For some reason the thought reassured him. The dogs might have gone but Doumeki was still here.

He walked out of the room, out into the corridor where Doumeki had left. There was bound to be something else coming to stay over in the next couple of days. If he had some idea of what it was then maybe he could make some precautions so he wasn't caught in another demon cat situation.

Doumeki should be able to tell him what sort of locks to put on the pantry.

~x~X~x~

Poor Watanuki. *sigh* But he's still got Doumeki.

And in case you were wondering - these ~~small bears~~ dogs will be showing up elsewhere. Their final destination is another AU XD You can probably guess where XD I must admit I was tempted to give them to Syaoran at first but reconsidered. He doesn't really need them.

~x~X~x~

Entwining Fates: Royal Summons X

Sat, 15 Aug 2009 17:59:31 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Entwining Fates: Royal Summons
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG
Length: Very Long Oneshot (10/10)
Comment: AU (lord & prince). Set after Stubborn Perch.
Summary: Doumeki and Kimihiro have to contend with various political agendas which intrude into the fight for the city’s future.

~x~X~x~

Entwining Fates:

Royal Summons

X

"I shouldn't have come." The words were quiet. A glance showed Kimihiro looking disgusted with himself. "It only made the situation worse." He frowned. "Lady Heath won't hear anything I say."

Doumeki couldn't deny that. But he didn't see it as Kimihiro's fault. "I wouldn’t have even managed to see her by myself. And I doubt she would have listened to what I had to say." Lady Heath didn't like him anymore than she did Kimihiro. She seemed to have written him off as incompetent and ignorant. Whether it was in part the relationship she had with his mother, though, he didn't know.

Kimihiro stopped walking and turned to face him. A faint smile crossed his lips, gone seconds later. "Neither of us have her favour." He started walking again. "But we have to have her agreement for the festival." His voice became dry. "Unless Her Majesty reinstates it herself."

That wasn’t likely. They had to get the Eastern Keeper's agreement. "How can we persuade Lady Heath?"

Kimihiro was silent for a moment. "We have two Keepers already. Two remain."

"Lord Ishiyama?" Doumeki turned over the possibility in his mind. "Would he able to convince Lady Heath?"

"Maybe." One of end of Kimihiro's scarf fell forward over his shoulder and he readjusted it. "They've been guarding East and West for the last thirty years. Lady Heath will give more weight to Lord Ishiyama's words than any other Keeper."

Considering what the lady had said about Lord Durham and himself, that wasn't entirely reassuring. But they had a better chance of convincing Lord Ishiyama. He hadn't barred his doors to either of them. Despite the rebuffs that Alastaire had experienced, there was almost a friendly accord between West and South. Both Wards took an offensive outlook compared the defence of North and East.

They were both silent as they walked back to the carriage. Doumeki was reviewing the interactions he'd had with Lord Ishiyama in the past while Kimihiro kept his own council. The times Doumeki looked at him, though, showed that he was brooding. Likely reviewing the clash he'd had with the older woman. It was much the way he had looked at breakfast that morning.

The carriage came into sight. Doumeki wondered if he'd be able to persuade Kimihiro to have dinner at the Southern Ward.

A low caw sounded out. There was a flash of movement and he turned to see a crow gliding overhead. It flapped its wings once or twice to gain a bit more height, skipping over the parked carriage. Glossy black wings fanned as it back winged and landed neatly on a nearby branch. It settled its wings and peered down at them with pale blue eyes, making no pretence of its interest.

It wasn't the only one. A quick glance at the nearby trees revealed other feathered bodies sitting on branches. The Ame-Warashi's crows. At least they had support from that quarter.

But he couldn't shake the faint sense of uneasiness the sight of them brought to life. Even when he knew their origin, there was still the matter of their purpose.

Kimihiro didn't seem to share the same reservations, though. After one quick glance up at the trees, he continued walking to carriage.

The footman was glancing uneasily up at the crows but he snapped to attention as they drew close and opened the door. Doumeki gave him a small signal and he stepped back.

"What next?" Doumeki held out a hand to help Kimihiro in the carriage.

"We make an appointment with the Western Ward." Kimihiro took the offered hand and set a foot on the footstep, reaching for the handle to pull himself up. Only to pause. Kimihiro suddenly sent him a suspicious look. "What are you doing?"

What did it look like he was doing? "Helping you into the carriage."

Kimihiro stared down at their joined hands with a look of disquiet. He suddenly completed the climb into the cabin, his hand leaving Doumeki's supporting grip. "I don't need help."

Doumeki stared after him. Had that been-? It had. There had been colour in Kimihiro's pale cheeks. He was blushing.

Spirit's rising, Doumeki set a foot on the foot step and pulled himself into the carriage. Kimihiro was sitting in the furthest corner of the bench seat, glaring out the window. His cane sat propped up against the side of the cabin and his arms were crossed tightly over his chest. Doumeki couldn't see his face except for a faint reflection on the window. But the sight of a few unruly strands of his short hair sticking out over the pale curve of his ear, prickly like his current embarrassed attitude, made Doumeki smile.

He settled on the bench beside him, staring and making no pretence of the fact. As far as he was concerned, after making his declaration at New Years he didn't have to hide anything anymore. He wanted to convince Kimihiro of his intentions, not hide how he felt. And that meant he could stare all he wanted. The thought made him feel somewhat smug.

The carriage door made a small thud as the footman shut it firmly. Kimihiro turned automatically at the sound only to catch him watching. His eyes widened slightly then narrowed into a scowl. His arms suddenly uncrossed, as he opened his mouth for some sharp comment.

That was exactly what Doumeki was waiting for. He reached out and grasped Kimihiro’s nearest hand, fingers curling tightly around the gloved digits.

Kimihiro automatically tried to pull free. Whatever he was going to say was forgotten in face of the new annoyance. "Let go!" It was an angry hiss.

Not likely. "We're courting." The angry twitch that elicited made him feel warm inside. "It's expected we'd hold hands in private." He wanted to do more than that but Kimihiro's cane was a consideration. He'd either get brained or stabbed with the end. Though it might be worth it-

"You're courting!" There were spots of colour in Kimihiro's pale cheeks and Doumeki suspected it wasn't just anger. "I'm doing nothing of the sort!" He tugged at his hand.

Doumeki easily resisted the effort. "I wouldn't mind if you did." Kimihiro stared at him in shock and Doumeki seized the opportunity to bring their joined hands to rest on the bench between them. His on top, with greater leverage.

"You like me don't you?" He was pretty sure of it by now. Kimihiro was making a bit too much of the situation. It wasn’t the first time they’d held hands, after all.

Kimihiro was staring at him, his eyes just a little too wide. But he didn't deny it. He glanced down at their hands again. The sight seemed to reignite some of his annoyance. "That doesn't mean I want to hold hands with you." His anger was dampened into irritation.

"No one's watching." Doumeki pointed out.

Kimihiro gave him a stare that would have withered grass. "That's not the point."

"Then what is?"

"It's-" Kimihiro floundered, scrambling for words. Doumeki was suddenly intrigued by the difficulty Kimihiro was having meeting his eyes.

"If you can't think of something, then I'm not going to let go." Wouldn't even if he did.

Kimihiro fell silent. Not speaking but not trying to pull his hand free, either.

That had been easier than he had expected. Maybe he should have chanced the cane.

~x~X~x~

Kimihiro made his way up the staircase to the second floor. He was barely aware of Hikideshi following a step behind. Thoughts were jumbling in his mind, cutting across each other and multiplying as they intersected. After all that had happened, he was still coming to terms with what he had learned. Not even Doumeki's blatant advances had been enough to distract him from the reality of the situation.

"Lady Heath refused to even consider a festival." He didn't even pause as they reached the landing, walking to the door of the map room. He cast a glance at Hikideshi. "She considers the situation a personal matter rather than one that concerns the entire city."

Hikideshi's eyes narrowed slightly at his words but he didn't look surprised. "Lady Heath has allied herself closely with the crown. No doubt the influence has gone both ways."

Kimihiro frowned. The thought had occurred to him before but Hikideshi’s words leant it extra weight. The alliance between the two women had come about after the Yokoboseru had sunk but Kimihiro had never learned who had approached who. Either way, Kimihiro knew that Lady Heath would be seeking out Her Majesty to tell her of their uninvited intrusion. The repercussions weren't likely to be good for either of them. The problems it would cause for Doumeki were of more concern that anything that might happen to him. He had come too far along now to worry about royal displeasure.

He grasped hold of the intricate handle and opened the warded door. A glance revealed that Hikideshi had anticipated him. One of the earlier maps was laid out on the table. The one that stopped just short of Haruka's death.

Kimihiro turned to Hikideshi. "You knew." The sudden realization was like a drenching with cold water. Hikideshi had known where Haruka had died. And he hadn’t said anything.

Hikideshi had stepped into the room and was closing the door behind him. He inclined his head slightly. "The mansion is linked to the Southern Ward and thus the Central Ward."

And thus Hikideshi was linked to both. The thought was half-frozen. It wasn't as great a shock as when Doumeki had told him but it was a shock, nonetheless.

"I told you what I knew." Hikideshi continued. "With His Grace's passing the wards were strengthened." His eyes were solemn.

"The Palace." Kimihiro felt slightly faint.

Hikideshi glanced at the map, the central circle encasing the cherry blossom of the royal house. "The central point."

And the most protected. The palace was located in a bend of the Kurokawa River. During the founding of the city, canals had been built to channel the river around the palace, effectively making what was practically a city within the city into an island. The royal complex was surrounded by running water on all sides, giving it protection against supernatural enemies as well as physical ones. The shrine and mirroring gardens flanking the palace also provided additional protection. Its defences were further bolstered by the city itself. The four main roads channelled spirits through the city and deflected them onto the circular road that encased the central district. The four cardinal Wards, supported by the parks and networks of shrines in their quarters, supported the Central Ward in turn. In short, the entire city protected and was powered by its heart.

And that was where Haruka had gone to die.

Hikideshi walked over to the map table and picked up the pen sitting on its surface. He leaned forward to mark a small precise cross in the centre of the map.

The letter. The promise Haruka had elicited from him the last time they had meet. Kimihiro stared down at the red mark encroaching on the sakura blossom of the royal house. Where Haruka had sacrificed himself to bolster the wards.

Or at least that was what Kimihiro had thought. But he wasn't certain now. He had only had a vague idea what had happened. Even Lady Amita had been unaware of the details. In retrospect, the secrecy was strange. Haruka had always been open with him. Except in this.

"You think something's gone wrong." Hikideshi wouldn't have marked the palace if he didn't.

Hikideshi straightened from leaning over the map. "There are other methods to strengthen the wards." His eyes lifted from the cross he had just made, solemn black. "His Grace wouldn't have ventured into the palace unless he had to."

The dragon and the king. Lady Browning's words were stark in his mind. Doumeki had abdicated but maybe her words had nothing to do with earthly status. "Lady Browning called Doumeki king."

Hikideshi slowly set down the pen on the map. With the light from the chandelier picking up the streaks of silver in his black hair, he suddenly looked old. An impression that was suddenly contradicted by the look he shot Kimihiro. "I think it's time His Grace learnt more about his abilities."

Kimihiro nodded unhappily. "He'll be over later in the week." Doumeki never stayed away for long. He glanced at the map, suddenly feeling incredible tired. Holding the dosojin had taken a lot out of him. And the meeting with Lady Heath had taken its own toll. “One of Haruka’s dosojin was disturbed. Unearthed by road workers.”

Hikideshi’s eyes narrowed. “Who ordered it?”

“They claimed to have a royal writ.” Kimihiro was starting to get a headache. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “But I doubt Her Majesty would have approved.” Not within a quarter under her son’s governance. “The road was weakened and a munashiitori was freed.”

The butler’s eyes shot to him in a dark stare.

“Fortunately the local ubusunagami was around as well.” When there wasn’t meant to be one in the area. He glanced at Hikideshi. “Could it have been sealed?”

Hikideshi frowned down at the map. “It’s possible. There was confusion in the early years.” He sounded somewhat distracted.

“Lord Kimura and Lady Taihei were freed from their prison as well. The plum was drilled.” He avoided Hikideshi’s gaze. “I dealt with them.”

Hikideshi was quiet for a moment. “I’ll have Ryouta to look into it. It may be he’ll find something.” He studied Kimihiro, a slight frown of concern creasing his forehead. “Should I prepare something?”

Hikideshi could see what state he was in. But Kimihiro didn’t feel like drinking any of Hikideshi’s concoctions. He rubbed at his right temple. "I think I'll retire." His bed was a tempting image in his mind. One he wasn't inclined to resist. “I just need some rest.”

Hikideshi bowed. "Call me if you need anything, my lord." He had sensed his master's need to have some space and didn’t offer to accompany him.

Kimihiro smiled faintly in acknowledgement and let himself out.

For a moment he simply stood in the corridor, staring blankly at the rich runner underfoot. Haruka had gone to the Palace to bolster the wards of the entire city. But now the dosojin he had set to watch his own Quarter were ailing. It was almost as if Haruka’s power had been diverted to some other purpose. He reached instinctively for his watch.

Something unexpected met his fingers. Soft and warm.

Kimihiro frowned and pulled it out. He blinked when he saw the object sitting on his palm. It was a violet. A dark blue violet. A vibrant cluster of dusky petals on a thin stem that looked so fragile it might snap.

Not just affection but love.

Doumeki's actions that day flashed through his mind as he started down the corridor. He hadn't given up on his courting. If anything he only seemed more determined. And it looked like it had gotten worse if he was slipping things into Kimihiro’s pockets.

Kimihiro's steps slowed. It made him uneasy. Doumeki wasn't someone who stopped until he got what he wanted. He appeared quiet and laidback but Kimihiro knew him well enough to know it wasn't the truth. Doumeki was just like his power, hot magma under the unassuming crust. And to have all that attention directed at him...Kimihiro flexed the fingers of his left hand. Doumeki hadn't let go through the entire carriage ride. It was only when they had arrived and the footman opened the carriage door that he had reluctantly disengaged.

Despite his protests Kimihiro hadn't really minded. Despite the distraction it had proved - it had been difficult to avoid certain thoughts with Doumeki so close, Kimihiro had found much to his chagrin - the act of handholding wasn't a daunting one. It was the knowledge of what Doumeki would do if he had what he believed was permission that had Kimihiro worrying. If Doumeki had any encouragement he was likely to push on in his futile courtship.

And for Doumeki - who openly declared that he didn't care about his reputation - that could only be disastrous. Kimihiro had no social standing to speak of - his name had been dragged through the mud so often, layers of scandal had been forever linked to his name. But it was different for Doumeki. His name was currency he needed.

The way the conversation had gone with Lady Heath was a potent example of how his involvement was undermining Doumeki's standing. And he knew how it would spread if anyone knew of Doumeki's attempts to court him.

Courting. His lips pursed. The mere thought of a prince courting a lord was idiotic. But typical of Doumeki. Doumeki was an idiot.

Kimihiro stared down at the violet resting on his palm.

Whatever Doumeki might think, Kimihiro knew what the small flower meant. He had to keep on his guard and remain watchful.

~x~X~x~

Dark water rippled with each impact of the pink petals that settled on the pond's surface. They dotted the black plane, sending out small ripples.

"Cassandra has always been convinced that the Southern Ward is inferior." Haruka stared out across the pond, his arms looped loosely across his chest, cigarette held loosely between two of his fingers. "She won't be persuaded by either of you."

Doumeki squashed the urge to comment that information would have been more useful before they had gone to the Eastern Ward. "And Lord Ishiyama?"

"Takeshi's a warrior." The older man's gaze didn't waver from the rippling water. "If he sees a threat, he'll act on it."

That wasn't particularly reassuring. Especially in the light of what Lady Heath had said that afternoon. "Lady Heath suggested the end of the Watanuki line would end the threat." He was still angry at the suggestion.

Haruka finally turned to look at him. As the silence stretched out, Doumeki had the sudden irrational fear that his grandfather would agree with the Eastern Keeper.

"I've heard that suggestion before." Haruka didn't look pleased. "It was raised after Kaito and Kokoro had returned. The wards were being tested and there was panic in some quarters." Haruka studied his cigarette, the smoke rising from it in thin coils.

For a second Doumeki's thoughts were blank. And then realization was setting in like a rising tide of ice. "Are you saying-"

Haruka hadn't taken his gaze off the thin stream of rising smoke. "Kaito and Kokoro had heard of a disturbance. Something that caused them to cut short their journey to the city. Otherwise they would never have been at the crossroads that day." The cigarette turned slowly between his fingers. "The timing suggests more than coincidence." He glanced up at Doumeki. "If Kimihiro suspects, he hasn't said anything."

It was hard to say if Kimihiro knew or not. He hadn't voiced any suspicions but that didn't mean anything. Kimihiro had openly admitted that he wasn't saying all he knew. Doumeki flexed the fingers of his right hand, preventing them from fisting. If someone had thought that once and now Kimihiro was the last of the Watanuki bloodline- "Did you find out who it was?"

Haruka shook his head. "They covered their tracks well."

The older man was being unusually forthcoming. "The Ame-Warashi had mentioned a bargain. Why is the Watanuki line so important?"

Haruka glanced at him and smiled, a slight change of expression that transformed his entire face. "When the capital was built there was an agreement between the architect of the city and the elementals that possessed territory within its bounds."

"Clow." Doumeki was beginning to see the connections.

Haruka nodded. "It was an agreement of mutual protection." He stared out at the dark lake, its surface broken with small ripples as the cherry petals continued to shed. "The Watanuki line served as the mediators between the first and second world."

"And so Kimihiro-"

"-is essentially responsible for keeping the human side of the equation in check." The cigarette lifted to Haruka's lips.

"By himself?" It was a ridiculous idea. And one that Kimihiro seemed to have taken to heart.

"No." Smoke rose in a thickening line. "The Four Keepers and the second lines are meant to provide support." His voice softened. "Cassandra's refusal would have risked her replacement in the past. But times have changed."

It put things into perspective. Kimihiro's one man crusade. His authority with the other seconds lines. The Ame-Warashi's treatment of him as an equal.

Haruka smiled around his cigarette. "Don't let him give you any excuses about the difference of rank." His smile widened. "Which he'll try to do."

It was somewhat irritating that Haruka knew Kimihiro so well. Though, Doumeki did appreciate the advantage it gave him.

Doumeki glanced around them. At the grassy slope, the stone bench sheltered by the weeping cherry tree with its thinning blossoms. The pond that lay dark in front of them. An exact copy of the garden at the Southern Ward.

Where Haruka hadn't died.

Doumeki asked the question that he had been waiting to ask ever since he had read the report on Haruka’s death. "Why were you at the palace that night?"

Haruka stopped smoking. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and turned around to face Doumeki, his face grave. "Tracing the source of a disturbance."

Doumeki's eyes snapped open. He pushed back the covers and slipped from his bed, heading towards the glass doors looking out onto the garden. He slid one open and stood in the channel of cold air that immediately rushed into the room. Doumeki closed his eyes to better feel the cool air. Hoping that it would help sort out his thoughts.

A disturbance. Had it been a lure to lead Haruka to his death? Doumeki turned his head. The broken arrow shaft sat on the side table next to his bed, barely visible in the dark room. Had the unofficial report hidden things as well? Had it been murder?

Or was his grandfather trying to tell him something about the state of the palace? His gaze turned back to the garden, past the dormant cherry tree on the slope overlooking the pond. To the north. The palace where he had been born. Where his mother ruled.

His mother.

Doumeki's hand fisted in the fabric of his samue. He didn't know what to think anymore. He had made the decision to split with his mother's policies, to follow his own even if it meant direct opposition. But the thought that she might be under threat in some way threatened to undermine the wall of indifference he had been trying to erect.

Doumeki reached out and slid the door shut, cutting off the cold air. He walked back over to the bed and picked up the broken arrow from the side table. It was cool to the touch.

Arrow in hand, he started out of the room, heading towards his study. He wouldn't be able to get to sleep and he might as well work on the paperwork that had started to pile up. With the outings he went on with Kimihiro added to his usual duties, he had less time to attend to it. Doumeki wanted to get as much of it done as he could in the time he had. He suspected it would only get worse from here on.

~x~X~x~

Most likely. Doumeki's going to be very busy in the months ahead. He's going to have to wade back into court now that he's got something he wants to achieve.

You can see now why this took so long (aside from my editing addiction XD). We're really getting into the thick of it now. The politics have well and truly started to kick in: the new edicts, Akio's fury, Lady Heath's refusal and Doumeki's manouvering. Not to mention Lord Tatsuya and his band of followers (they're an interesting bunch). And then there's the second world. Kimihiro's right. It's the turning of the tide and more and more things are stirring. It's good that the Ame-Warashi left Kimihiro her crows. The minashiitori is only the start of it. But least Doumeki's courting is going well :D Though I can't guarantee he'll be in one piece when he braves that cane XD

The next instalment shall be Box Seat. But I have a bit of vampirebait that I need to finish so it might be a while.

~x~X~x~

Entwining Fates: Royal Summons IX

Sat, 15 Aug 2009 17:49:18 GMT

An xXxholic fic

Title: Entwining Fates: Royal Summons
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki
Rating: PG
Length: Very Long Oneshot (9/10)
Comment: AU (lord & prince). Set after Stubborn Perch.
Summary: Doumeki and Kimihiro have to contend with various political agendas which intrude into the fight for the city’s future.

~x~X~x~

Entwining Fates:

Royal Summons:

IX

The main garden was designed in the Eastern style, a carefully manicured lawn studded with maples, pines and thick box hedges. Amidst a grove of pines on a small hill sat a gazebo overlooking the grounds. Lord and Lady Browning strolled slowly up the main path as Doumeki and Kimihiro followed from a distance, lingering in the cover of the pines that lined the main avenue.

Doumeki looked up from time to time but didn’t see anything above. None of the crows had followed them out of the forest.

"Arthur." The voice was cool but threaded through with exasperation. "How many times have I asked you to ensure Lucinda doesn't wander away?" There was a sigh. "She has no idea where she's going half of the time."

"I'm sorry, Cassandra. She got away from me again." Lord Browning sounded apologetic.

"Really, Arthur." Lady Heath’s voice was chiding. "If you're not careful, she's going to have a fall."

They climbed the last stretch of the hill and Doumeki could finally see the gazebo's occupants. Lady Browning was being seated at the small table by her husband who had yet to take his seat. Across from them both sat Lady Heath. With her grey hair pulled back from her rounded face she looked like a benevolent grandmother. But Doumeki knew that she had a will of steel beneath the soft exterior.

As if she had heard his thoughts, the Eastern Keeper suddenly turned towards the path, spotting both of them. "Your Highness." Her brown eyes raked over him, ignoring Kimihiro at his side. "I thought you had better manners than to interrupt a private gathering without invitation."

Kimihiro was unmoved by the accusation. "We were invited by Lady Browning."

The Eastern Keeper's eyes narrowed, her mouth pursed in a look of irritation. She shot the younger woman a sharp stare before finally turning her attention to Kimihiro. She stared at him for a long moment, eyes curiously empty. "I never expected to see you again." The tone of her voice suggested that she hadn't wanted to.

Kimihiro's gloved hand tightened around his cane. "Events have forced my hand."

Lady Heath swept her eyes over Kimihiro in a quick dark scan. "I presume you're here as Lord Watanuki rather than in your position as head of the Southern Quarter's second line?" Her voice was cold.

Doumeki's eyes narrowed. It was the second time today that Kimihiro's title had been given precedent over his role as a supporter of the Southern Ward.

Kimihiro was impassive. "No." His voice was cool, a match for the older woman's. "I'm here as both."

There was strained silence as the two locked gazes, Lady Heath staring down from her seat in the gazebo and Kimihiro looking up at her from the lower ground outside. "Arthur." Lady Heath didn't take her eyes off Kimihiro. "Take Lucinda for a walk."

Lord Browning looked uncertainly to Kimihiro who nodded slightly, his eyes still on the Eastern Keeper. The lord took his wife's elbow and helped her out of her seat again. "Come now, my dear." His voice was cheerful but there was worry in his eyes. "I think we should go for a walk."

For a moment Lady Browning resisted, staring at the older woman sharply. But then a vague smile appeared on her face. "A walk." She allowed her husband to help her to her feet and down the gazebo stairs to where Doumeki and Kimihiro stood. But she resisted when he started to lead her past them.

Her eyes locked on Doumeki and he was subjected to the full force of her gaze, wide black pupils rimmed in a thin line of pale blue. "I was happy to meet you again, Your Highness." Her voice was quiet but not the least bit vague. "Like your grandfather and your father you are a good man."

Doumeki's breath caught as his chest tightened at the unexpected words. No one had said anything like that before. Comparisons were usually avoided at the Palace. And neither Haruka nor his father was mentioned at court. "Thank you."

"No. My thanks are with you for what you will do-" She stopped talking. Her eyes were suddenly fixed on Kimihiro's face, focused on his right eye. At least that was what Doumeki thought until saw the faint shifting of her darkened eyes as she followed the moment of whatever she saw. "It's very beautiful." Her voice was soft, slightly sad. "Beautiful and terrifying. Like flames that will consume the world."

"Lucinda." Lord Browning set a gentle hand on her arm. He looked upset.

She blinked and her smiled brightened slightly as she covered his hand with her own. "Sorry, Arthur. I'll try to pay better attention."

Doumeki's eyes were on Kimihiro, though. He was pale, his dark blue eyes almost black in his white face. He looked almost frightened.

"You're both welcome in my house." Lady Browning continued, as if Lady Heath wasn’t even there. Her eyes fixed on Doumeki. "Feel free to visit me if you feel the need."

"Lucinda." Lady Heath's voice was sharp.

Lord Browning glanced back at the gazebo and nodded to Kimihiro and Doumeki. "I’ll talk to you later." Lady Browning smiled as she passed them and hugged her husband's coat more tightly around her shoulder.

There was a short silence after they had left. Lady Heath lifted her teacup. "Take a seat." Her dark eyes were cold and watchful. "You might as well explain why you're here."

Kimihiro looked at him with a quick sidelong flash of blue before ascending the gazebo steps and pulling out a chair. His face was composed once more, the fear he had shown at Lady Browning's words covered by the impassive mask he wore when facing a threat.

Doumeki warily followed and pulled out his own chair, settling lightly, aware of the old woman's sharp eyes trained on him. She didn't offer tea and Kimihiro didn't ask for any. Doumeki could already see where the meeting was heading. It would take long negotiation to pry permission from the Eastern Keeper.

But Kimihiro wasn't pulling any punches. "A goryo is inside the city."

Lady Heath didn't even react to the news. "Lucinda received your letter."

Kimihiro's mouth tightened. "Not just any goryo. One from outside the boundaries. He's already in the city and has penetrated the Northern Ward."

Lady Heath fixed him with an emotionless stare. "The Southern Ward still holds. Are you trying to tell me that one of Them has slipped through the wards and is now in the city?" She raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any proof?"

Doumeki felt a stir of anger. There was no concern in Lady Heath's face, only mockery.

Kimihiro's right eye twitched. "The chief physician of the Northern Ward was murdered. A calling card was left on the body."

"A card you no longer have." The Eastern Keeper observed. "I suppose that was coincidence as well."

Kimihiro's mouth tightened.

"You expect me to agree to a festival on grounds of an incursion you can't prove." She leaned back in her chair. "I refuse."

There was silence at the blunt rejection. Doumeki studied the face of the older woman. She looked perfectly composed, secure in her decision. He turned to Kimihiro. His face was blank, an expressionless mask. He met Doumeki's gaze then turned back to Lady Heath.

"And if I ask you as Lord Watanuki?" His voice was soft, but there was an edge to his question.

Her mouth drew tight. "If what you say is true," she sounded like she doubted Kimihiro's words, "your private matter comes close to threatening innocent people." Her eyes flashed. "Deal with that first and I might respect the position you claim."

Kimihiro had gone deathly still at her words. He was several shades paler than usual, his face drawn. "It's not that simple."

But the Eastern Keeper was merciless. "How many have already died because of your feud?" She leaned forward in her chair, eyes burning. "How many have died because of you, Lord Watanuki?"

Doumeki's jaw clenched. She made it sound as if the entire situation was Kimihiro's fault.

Lady Heath turned to him. "You obviously haven't been told everything, Your Highness." Her mouth tightened in disapproval. "You should know better than to tie your fate to someone without knowing their background."

Kimihiro's eyes had been fixed on Lady Heath. But they now flicked sideways to meet Doumeki's stare. His eyes were dark but he didn't say anything, neither denial nor defence.

But Kimihiro never defended himself.

Doumeki kept his eyes locked with Kimihiro’s. "I know enough."

Kimihiro blinked, a strange expression crossing his face, then suddenly turned away.

Lady Heath's eyes narrowed. "You're just like Haruka." Unlike Lady Browning, she didn't appear to find the comparison favourable. Contempt was thick in her voice. "Wilfully blind to the true state of the situation."

The air grew palpably cooler as Kimihiro drew himself up in his chair. "Haruka saw more clearly than anyone." The words were practically snapped out. Kimihiro's eyes flashed, his expressionless face suddenly alive with barely suppressed anger.

Lady Heath's face tightened, her mouth drawing tight into a thin line. She picked up her teacup.

Kimihiro fixed the older woman with eyes like frozen sapphires. "I ask you again. Reconsider before you make a terrible mistake that will cost lives."

Lady Heath's cup lowered from her lips. She stared at him for a long moment saying nothing. "Your mother once asked something of me using similar words." Her eyes narrowed. "I never liked that woman." She didn't seem to care that the son of the woman in question was sitting at her table. "So full of wilful arrogance." Her mouth drew tight. "I declined her just as I decline you now." She fixed Kimihiro with a hard gaze. "Times have changed. The Watanuki line is all but obsolete."

Doumeki's hand was fisted in his lap so hard that his nails were digging into his palm. Only Kimihiro's foot stepping on his, warning him not to interfere, kept him silent. But it was a struggle.

Kimihiro was deathly still. "If you ignore such a threat, the people in your quarter will be in danger." A thread of anger was leaking into Kimihiro’s voice. Doumeki was surprised that he had managed to hold onto it for so long.

Lady Heath's reply was chill. "The Eastern Quarter is secure. There have been no scandalous breaches like those in the Northern Ward's hospital." Her eyes pinned Doumeki. "Nor have there been any murders." Her eyes flicked back to Kimihiro. "Instead of searching for a goryo, perhaps you should focus on your own ability to govern your quarter."

"Are you accusing me of neglecting my duty?" He couldn't remain silent at that, not even with Kimihiro's warning.

The lady's eyes fixed on him, filled with scorn. "Can you deny it? Until recently you did nothing to counter the deterioration of the Southern Ward. Kiyoimizu and Highbridge are at a fraction of their strength." Her eyes were cold. "And it's doubtful that Kiyoimizu will ever fully recover. The shrines and the roads are the only other support for the Ward and I have heard worse about them."

She didn't allow him time to respond, continuing her attack on Kimihiro. "You have been led astray, Lord Doumeki." She had eschewed both his title as prince and Keeper. "It's a Keeper's duty to maintain the Wards but it is the second line's responsibility to give support." She fixed Kimihiro with a hostile stare. "Not to meddle in the business of the Quarter and stir up things that have been left sleeping."

"Meddle." Kimihiro’s voice was toneless. "I wonder what role you see for us?" The words were brittle, threaded through with broken glass.

"We maintain the balance." Lady Heath's voice was unyielding. "Spirits and elementals are part of this city. Kept in a complex web that ensures our survival. It is not for us to decide the weight one holds over the other. A Keeper guards that balance."

Kimihiro's eyes were furious blue slits but his voice was level. "Is that how you explain Lord Ellis' death?"

Lady Heath jerked back as if slapped. "How dare you," she hissed. Her eyes flashed. "How dare you even suggest such a thing."

Kimihiro was unmoved. "There is plenty of proof, Lady Heath." He wasn't using her proper title as Keeper but the bare minimum for civility. "Lady Ellis has faced that truth even if you are unwilling."

The older woman suddenly stilled. "You speak of events which you know nothing of." Anger sizzled in her words. "What happened to Louis was regrettable but stemmed from his own actions, not the dereliction of this Ward." Her eyes flickered. "Tereza seeks to pin the blame to lessen her own guilt."

Kimihiro was sitting rigidly in his chair. To Doumeki he looked like he was ready to explode. His hand was clenched tightly over the head of his cane while the other clutched tightly to the arm of his chair. But he simply flexed his fingers, a gesture Doumeki recognised when he was trying to calm himself. "I already have the support of North and South." Kimihiro's voice was level. "If you-"

"Support?" Lady Heath scoffed. "Lord Durham is untested and has no support. He grasps you onto as he would a life line. And if the Doumeki line continues to remain the lapdog of the Watanuki line, that's their concern." She cast Doumeki a disparaging glance.

If the woman had any remaining credit with him, that last remark wiped them out. No one had dared to insult him to his face in such a way. No one had dared to insult his father or Haruka in such a way.

Lady Heath's cup descended onto its saucer with a precise click. "The wards of this city have held for centuries. It's not the Wards which are weakening but the people who run them." Her eyes narrowed. "The Northern Ward is in tatters from its mismanagement and I have little hope for its future. And the South-" Her eyes turned to him, contempt in her gaze. "The South has always been reckless and inclined to embed itself in situations that threaten the entire city."

"Only East and West are not experiencing the difficulties to which you refer." She gazed out at the surrounding grove of pines. "And that's because they are run as they have always been, maintaining the balance as they have for centuries." Her eyes turned back to Kimihiro. "If North and South were run properly, you wouldn't be having the problems you now lay at the feet of a renegade goryo."

"This isn't just the problem of a loose goryo. Or even a break in the wards." Kimihiro was leaning forward in his chair, barely seated. "He is one of Them." Frustration cloaked the urgency in his words. "You know what this means."

The Eastern Keeper had watched Kimihiro in silence as he spoke, her face expressionless. "I know what it means." Her eyelids lowered, casting a veil of pale lashes over her eyes. "Fear in excess is what the Watanuki line has brought this city." Her eyes rose to pin Kimihiro. They were devoid of anger, filled with something worse. Accusation. "Fear is what your parents brought when they returned from their long expedition." The last word was said with loathing. "Faltering lines and guttering wards. News of attempts of on the borders of the empire and worse within. Dire predictions of what would happen if nothing was done." Her lips pursed into bloodless lines. "And my mother believed their words."

The tension at the table was excruciating. Kimihiro's foot was pressing down hard on Doumeki’s but he didn't even seem aware of what he was doing. He sat with his eyes locked on the older woman, face frozen, seeming not even to breathe.

"And what came?" The words were bitter. "A pitiful incursion that was turned back with little effort."

"Little effort?" The words were disbelieving. Kimihiro's eyes were furious blue slits. "People gave their lives to stop that pitiful incursion."

Lady Heath's eyes snapped brown fire. "The only ones who died were those foolish enough to go beyond the wards. Their own overbearing pride is what killed them."

Kimihiro jerked as if slapped.

But Lady Heath was merciless. "Ultimately the wards held and they were repelled. The dire threat was to the Watanuki line rather than the city itself." Her eyes flashed. "And once the line has ended, the threat will vanish also."

Doumeki's eyes narrowed. That sounded like a threat to him.

The cane had fallen with a clack against the table. Kimihiro was pale. "You really believe that." His hand was shaking as he took hold of the cane again.

The lady's face was closed, showing nothing except the anger in her glittering eyes. "You know the nature of goryo better than anyone, Lord Watanuki." The anger in her voice had been controlled in the guise of cold practicality. "You can either destroy them or placate them. In this case it would be easier to do the latter."

Give Kimihiro to Him to save themselves.

Doumeki stood, chair legs scrapping. "I've heard enough." He held out a hand to help Kimihiro to his feet. Kimihiro looked up at him, startled and hesitantly reached out. Doumeki took his hand before he could change his mind and pulled him to his feet.

Lady Heath didn't bother with the courtesy to rise. "I trust you know the way. See yourselves out."

Kimihiro's hand twitched in his grip. But he said nothing as Doumeki led him out of the gazebo.

~x~X~x~

>.>

On to Part Ten

~x~X~x~